


Chasing Tides

by Latios



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Blood and Injury, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Merman!Akechi, Merman!Akira, Romance, im here with another fantasy au sorry, the phantom thieves are pirates lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latios/pseuds/Latios
Summary: The Phantom Thieves were as the rumors stated; Pirates with a sense of justice, taking down the ships of corrupt individuals and returning stolen treasures back to their homes, keeping the rest for themselves.Their routine was simple. Find the ship, beat the pirates, and get the treasure. They usually found Gold and silver, maybe some jewelry, too—but they’ve never found a live merman on deck before.And taking care of him is probably their most difficult mission yet.





	1. Chapter 1

The air is salty and fresh, the clouds clear and unassuming. The waters are calm, and everything is ready, according to plan and date. It’s a perfect day for striking down an enemy ship. Akira looks through a spyglass at the distant ship, squinting to make out the name, and finds himself grinning at the gold painted letters across the side that spell their target’s name. Sailing through the sea, they’ve finally found their first target of three.

“Target’s on sight.” Akira mentions, passing the spyglass over to Ryuji like a baton before turning to head down the stairs, Morgana following him and tiptoeing along the handrail while Ryuji shouts the news to the others in the background. He embraces the pleasant sounds of chaos his team make, hoorays and scurrying as they get their weapons ready.

Morgana jumps to his shoulder, little claws digging into his coat. “Are we ready to go, or do you need more time?” He asks, kindly as always.

“We’re ready for this.” Akira confirms with a nod, and Morgana grins in that cat-like way of his, ghostly light forming around the Bakeneko.

“Perfect.”

~

Infiltration of a ship is never coy; you can see the enemy coming for miles, but it's all about laying low once you’ve entered, hiding on deck and never letting an enemy pass you, getting rid of obstacles one by one until you find the treasure floors below.

Akira may be a pirate, but him and his crew are… unusual, to say the least. They have strict rules.

One—they only target ships of high-profile pirates, or just people who have done great misdeeds to the populace. Enslavement. Kidnapping. Those who steal by the dozens, and laugh as they get away with it every time.

The Phantom Thieves don’t aim low, that’s for certain; but it’s not just for the publicity and rumours that spread across the seas—It’s more than that. All the people they target are cases that hit too close to home, people they need to kick down a few notches for their friends, on top of being for the general greater good. 

Basically, they only target people who have stolen aplenty, or have committed inhumane crimes and have gotten away with it. But the only person they truly aim for is the leader of each ship, trying to avoid the crew and lackeys if they could help it.

Which ties into their second major rule. Number two—no murder.

Being pirates, it’s a little hard to ambush people and steal everything they have without casualties. After Yusuke had been rescued from the abusive hands of Madarame, they’d agreed on a rule to only incapacitate the crewmates once ambushed, as they might be acting under duress.

They all aren’t fond of innocents and those who can’t fight back being put under abuse. It hurts them to see people being taken advantage of, like they’d all been subjected to in their personal experiences. It’s why their group got together and formed in the first place—instead of falling back and letting unfortunate events befall them and those they loved, they lashed out to the crimes in their own way, and joined together as a pirate crew after acquiring a boat.

And now the pirate group The Phantom Thieves are a curious tale that spreads across shores. None are all too sure if these ghosts fighting for the right thing are even real or not. The public only sees traces of their existence, after all. Most of the time in the form of broken apart ships finding their way to land, uninhibited and without their corrupt captains to be found ever again.

Some people fear for their safety because of these tales. Some seem unsure, but leave open requests for them on billboards. Some loudly follow them, believing their myths to be true.

The Phantom Thieves themselves are quite pleased that a band of helpful, if not a little unorthodox pirates could become a ray of hope among those seeking help—not a new thing to fear.

They have enemies and friends everywhere, as they walk among the public to gain intel on their next victim from key sources.

And now, after seven long journeys ruled by personal grudge, they are seeking out Masayoshi Shido—a governor from the mainland, known for paying people to do his dirty work and steal from the weak.

He’s going to be their biggest target yet, with three grand ships that sail the ocean to do his bidding, lackeys that steal and pretend not to act under his name while raiding towns. The Thieves would need to get all three major ships first before they can track Shido down and defeat him, so as to not be surrounded by his tedious backup. 

They can take their time a bit with eliminating the ships, though. They have a deadline, sure, but it would be a little more than difficult for the boats they beat to send a message to other lackeys or the mainland when trying to hide to save their own life, after being robbed of all Shido’s trusted jewels and treasure. It’s not really an option to report back after that either, knowing that Shido would come for them if they were to reveal their failures.

And now, the first rumoured ship is within the Phantom Thieves’ range. Practically in their grasp, after all this time of searching. With a name splayed across the side like Beast of Human Sacrifice, most smaller ships or groups would turn around for fear of safety, like their life depended on it.

But the Phantom Thieves move along the destined course, weapons ready, with battle-ready smiles pulling at their cheeks.

~

Battle is messy. This much Akira knows from experience, multiple knicks and permanent scars on his skin to attest to that.

Canonfire tends to miss your ship when you have a magical, transforming cat demon that can distract them, scare them away long enough to approach and board. They’d done this several times before—this is just one of the bigger missions. One they can’t fail.

Climbing aboard the ship with his crew is easy enough, delaying the enemies and knocking out pirates left and right, sneaking up on the ones coming from below by hiding until they are just close enough. 

Their methods may be less straightforward than most, but it works for them.

Before they know it, they’re the last ones standing. Noir is already buckling down with a loop of heavy rope, ready to tie Shido’s people up. Panther, Skull, and Queen run on ahead, Oracle scouring from above in the crow’s nest with Mona.

Akira helps Noir and Fox secure the people in tightly, careful not to jostle them too much, lest they wake them.

They all share the feeling of success with a smile as Panther announces the ship as clear. They run off, spreading out to collect the treasures therein.

And now’s where the fun part begins.

~

Shido’s ship is full of stolen things—ones obviously taken from small towns and other; they are going to return them, of course. That’s how their group worked. Return what was stolen, and keep the unclaimed extras for themselves to sell and keep their team going.

He’s just finished checking the armour and swords they found with Fox—there’s no names or any sign of ownership on most of them, which he’s sure will just lead to Iwai scrapping the metal and iron while giving them a pretty penny for the whole lot. They didn’t need armour out here on the ocean all that much. It halted movements, and brought them down in agility. Made a lot of noise, too. 

They settled for having some individual favorite weapons—Akira already had a favorite dagger of choice for himself, so he’s good. There was no need to be excessive.

He goes up the stairs to check on Panther and Skull with the inventory.

Only… Skull isn’t there, and Panther looks concerned, waiting outside the door.

“Skull, How’s the inventory going?” Panther asks, knocking at the door. “...Skull?”

Akira is alerted to the silence in response.

“ _Skulllll._ You okay in there?” Sounds of movement can be heard, but no confirmation from Skull. Panther looks at him with wide eyes.

“Move.” He says hurried but not unkindly as he’s pushing past Panther, progress with Fox and the new armour put on the back burner as the hair on his arms stood on end. Something was wrong.

He opens the door, knife out.

The scene playing out in front of him is… unexpected, to say the least. 

Akira is expecting a rogue bandit keeping Ryuji hostage, knife at the blond boys’ throat, trying to make some sort of deal for the treasure and his own safety. Hold ups aren't uncommon when they’ve misstepped the occasional time.

They’ve each had their turn at being used as bargaining chips, after all. All except Joker. But his comrades’ lives were worth much more to him than replaceable jewels.

What he doesn’t expect is this; the floor, splattered with water now soaking the boards black, and an inevitable magic pull he recognized all too well herding his gaze to the center of the room where Ryuji was, dunking himself into a huge tub of water. Panther tries to push through the door to go help, but Akira shoots an arm out, keeping her back.

He knows this trick. A tactic imbedded into his very genetics and so nostalgic, leaving his veins filled with ice, his mind flooded with memories of distant songs and screams.

“Joker, what are you doing?! Skull, Hey!” Panther calls past him, thinking Joker had apparently gone crazy to stop her here.

“Quiet,” Joker demands quietly, as he waits to see what he’s expecting to reveal itself. 

Sharp, translucently pale fingers with talons sharper than the pirates’ daggers clasp the edge of the tub, pulling itself up beside Ryuji. The creature is humanesque in shape, with long dark wet hair dark brown in color pasted to its face and neck. It’s eyes are sharp and hateful, a cherry red in color—Akira’s favorite shade. 

He can’t tell from this distance if it was female or male, the beauty stark and androgynous to say the least, the kind merpeople were born to harness and take advantage of. Those eyes drag him inward, and he’s whipped with nostalgia at a glance, the inevitable use of a luring charm trying to make its way onto him. A powerful one, too.

Mermaid. Of course Shido’s pawns were hoarding a mermaid, of all creatures. He could almost laugh.

“Joker! Is that a… _mer...maid._ ” Ann trails off, voice going from panicked to wispy and dreamy by the end of a few words. He feels alarm set it. This siren’s call was strong, to only have her captivated this quickly.

“Ann, go. I’ll handle this.”

“What…? But…” 

“Ann. _Please._ ” He stares at her, using her given name and waiting for her to snap from the daze. He hasn’t used his own powers in a long time, but he wills the spell to be broken as he stares her down, trying to recall ancient techniques in magic he never needed for sword-battling and fist fights. 

Having Siren blood helped in situations like this, even if he could barely recall how to use those powers now.

Her eyes clear up in a few seconds, and he grips her shoulder so she doesn’t turn back to the scene at hand. They exchange a nod of understanding, and she runs out of the room, slamming the door while calling the others.

Akira approaches the middle of the room, ignoring the hissing and swishing sounds coming from the tub. The creature backs off with him coming closer, probably alarmed with him being unaffected by a siren’s call, and dives back into the water with a hiss. He rips Ryuji from the tub as quickly as he can, before the siren realizes he should be pulling his hostage with him.

After placing Ryuji on the ground, ignoring the dazed dreamy-eyed look that matched Ann’s filling his eyes, he slaps his cheek, hard enough to get a reaction. No reaction.

Akira’s brows furrow, and he ignores the swishing behind him. With his luck, Ryuji probably swallowed salt water greedily like air when charmed by a mermaid, obeying any whims a pretty girl asks him, deadly or not.

After the initial shock, and a spurt of water convulsing out of his mouth, Ryuji’s eyes widen, jumping back to clarity. He coughs, water bubbling out of his throat as he heaves onto his side, Akira rubbing his back until he caught his breath.

“ _Joker,_ ” He wretches, hoarse and quiet. “That thing…! Don’t get near it, it’s—”

“I know, Skull.” He says, switching back to the code names now that inevitable danger was out of reach. He can breathe now that his best friend is safe. Pun intended. “It’s fine. Leave this to me.” He says. The creature hisses from the tub, ducking away and splashing as if to protest Ryuji breaking the spell.

Or maybe it understood Japanese, and the words Akira just implied.

Ryuji almost tumbles out of the room with Akira’s light prompt, and Ann looks at him with another affirmative nod from the door before closing it again, leaving the two of them alone.

The creature, which Akira can now see was actually male, thrashes around wildly, splashing as if the water would shock him like a round of bullets. 

“Enough already.” Akira says, at the side of the tub. The huge metal enclosure comes just below Akira’s ribcage, and spans just over a few meters both ways, leaving a hefty amount of room for the creature to swim about—if he was a _beta fish._ It gives Akira a gross sense claustrophobia, to imaging what this merman had gone through. This wasn’t deep enough for anything close to comfort, or wide enough to stretch a tail and fins to the fullest.

He’s mad now, and _almost_ doesn’t blame the creature for lashing out, trying to kill one of his best friends. But he’s still cautious.

They couldn’t leave him on the boat—the pirates would probably sell him for a few bags of rice and a place to stay as a last resort when they woke up, Shido’s other acquired treasures stolen back and long gone with the Phantom Thieves.

“Take it easy,” He attempts to soothe once again, in the most calming voice he can, as he thrashes through the practical _kiddie pool_ of salt water. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not a pirate.” He stops, in spite of himself. “Well, not from this ship, anyway. We’ll rescue you.”

The words don’t translate to any comfort if they translate at all, and the creature retreats to the back of the small pool, probably uneasy with Akira’s magical resistances working like a barrier from any protection this man had. 

He’s not surprised the creature is nervous, but he continues to try. He has to.

“I promise you—I won’t hurt you. I’m not the people who ran this ship—they’re held up for the time being. I won’t leave until you’re safe, and out of their clutches.”

A brief pause where the thrashing continues, before it slowly surfaces once again, pushing its head past the surface of the water, eyes dark and glaring. 

Red scales sparkle high on his cheekbones. More are scattered across his chest like dime-sized, sunburst colored freckles. His tail never stops moving, like a gold and crimson flame every time it catches light from the small cargo bay window. It's like Akira's looking at something ethereal, the way the merman stands out and apart from this place, like a phoenix trapped in a rusted cage. Despite the grace in those movements, the merman's facial and body movements don’t scream _appealed_ quite yet, though.

“We’ll get you out of here, if you let us. No harm will come to you.” Akira assures.

The things squints at him, before coming closer. Akira relaxes himself, almost sighing in relief. Maybe it did understand, which means he won't have to recall a forgotten, bubbly language. 

The merman is even prettier, up close. He’s searching Akira’s eyes for a lie, red like his scales and just as dangerous as they look through Akira, trying to get a read on his intentions. Akira lifts one of his arms to the side, and the merman’s eyes shoot accusingly to it, mouth opening for another hiss.

“It’s okay,” He promises, as he lowers the hand into the pool, for him to examine, like an offering of trust. The man’s eyes light up slightly, and his tail stops fluttering with nerves.

Mermaids liked trust being shown before expected. In humans especially. Letting them get up and close with you? Good way to start. He imagines how intimidating it must feel, people looking down on you while you did circles in a cage.

The merman holds his hands within his own cold and wet ones, feeling Akira’s hand for tremors, signs of a lie. There were many tells for that sort of thing—Eyes averting, never able to keep contact while telling a fib. Turning away from the person, face or body, never meeting them head on. Change in voice, even. In breathing, too. Pause or delay with phrasing and answers. 

Humans were telling, in that sort of sense. He grants it if only for the Creature’s wellbeing, but the notion in itself was pointless, anyway.

Akira wasn’t human, so none of the same rules applied. 

And he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him to watch the siren in this state, his brain forcing him to feel a sense of kinship here.

He stays there for the merman’s sake. Let’s him get a feel for Akira, see that Akira was being open with him, and trusting, to an extent. 

After the merman seems done with examining his hand, it looks back to his face, leaning in with curiosity, now. Cold hands touch at his collarbones, at his throat. Checking for panicked breaths, maintaining eye contact, hoping to get a flinch out of Akira as he slid those hands up to his cheeks, through his hair.

Did this guy not see enough pirates? Akira feels like this is the equivalent to a dog sniffing him, but tolerates it anyway. He knows he probably would have been doing the same odd behaviour if circumstances were different.

The moment of understanding is broken when Ryuji starts pounding on the door.

“Are you okay?!” Ryuji calls through the wall, and the merman hisses as it propels back into the safety of water, taking a handful of Akira’s hair with him.

“Yeah,” Akira calls, annoyed. “You can come in now. I _think._ ” He rubs at his head.

Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba peer from the outside, More curious than scared at this point. The merman hovers at the corner, but Akira extends a hand again, hoping he comes forward.

“It’s ok. We’ll release you from this place. They’re here to help.” He assures.

“Is that really a merman?! That’s so cool, I wonder what ocean he’s from, if he was captured!” Futaba _ooh’_ s with stars in her eyes, much too light for the words she’d just said. Akira frowns, but she continues. “He looks like he’s our age, doesn’t he? What are the chances! They’re rare as is.” Ann holds the curious girl back by the shoulders, shushing her kindly. The merman looks toward the girls with tilted posture, curiosity, worry, and something almost soft in his gaze.

The worry part tends to come back sharper, when he looks back to Ryuji.

Okay. So the merman had a preference. 

There’s also the possibility Ryuji is just a threatening presence in general. Loud, mostly. All bark, and no bite—But the merman might not have known that.

Akira snorts.

“Ann, come here. Let me introduce you two.” He calls, with a beckon of his finger.

She approaches slowly, but the merman can’t resist curiosity, as it floats closer, toward Ann, another beautiful creature.

“This is Ann,” Akira says, pulling her pale, delicate-looking but deceitfully strong hand into the water, elating a small gasp from her—she’d never been this close to a feral merman before, surely. “Don’t charm her, okay? She’s going to help me lift you out of this pool.” Akira mentions to the man, going for soothing. He didn’t need an accident here.

“I’m going to what, now.” Ann says, pleasant in tone, as to not alarm the merman grabbing at her fingers, pulling them apart and inspecting the color on her nails--holding at her wrist before deeming her acceptable, and dropping the hand. The merman even grabs at the tip of one of her twintails, before dropping it. She smiles and pulls back, shooting Akira a _look,_ once out of the man’s grasp. At least just far away enough for her arm to not have several pointy teeth sunk into it.

“You’re going to help me get him out of here. I think Ryuji is making him nervous. And I’d rather you didn’t get too close, Futaba. Merpeople are quite picky. If you drop him, he might hurt you.”

“Whatever you decide. I’m fine with watching this.” Futaba says, still grinning.

“He’s just scared of my huge guns.” Ryuji says, arms crossed. Futaba pats his back, as if to placate his ego.

“He’s hurt.” Yusuke says, inspecting close to his tail and conjuring out of nowhere, on the other end of the pool. The merman reels closer to Akira, if only because he’s run out of corners to hide in. The Phantom thieves were on all sides of his only safe space, now.

Akira processes the words that Yusuke said, and looks down, to the man’s tail, and _oh._

He hadn’t noticed earlier between all the fuss, but there was indeed a huge gash splitting the bottom of the man’s fin, running from the base of his actual scaled tail to the tip of the flared fin. A scar in the making if left untreated, for sure. And most definitely debilitating in the long-run as well. Had Shido’s men abused him in order to keep him complacent or quiet? Akira feels anger surge through him and tries to keep it at bay, mentally adding a tally to the _‘Reasons why I hate Shido’_ list.

He grips the tubs’ edge with a fist.

“Akira…” Futaba says, coming close enough to put a hand on his shoulder. He smiles down at her.

“We won’t let him stay like this. C’mon Ann, help me get him out.”

~

Getting a reluctant, dangerous merman out of his pool is easier said than done. The creature is clearly against it, even if he knows it’s not safe to be in there. Trusting humans is surely a wild experience for the first time.

The man hisses at Ann several times and attempts at lifting him under the arms, but eventually, she play hisses back, and the creature’s eyes widen in panic before she laughs, offering her hands once again. Usually, Akira would tell her to calm down on the play—Sirens were very serious creatures, and could kill easily if they found her threatening—not to mention they wouldn’t even have understanding of her human antics to begin with.

He’s surprised she doesn’t lose an arm when she lifts him again after her little stunt—but of course, her unorthodox methods actually _work,_ and the man looks confused, but doesn’t hiss again—As if he didn’t understand what to do when mocked. 

After he’s safely on the ground, Ann at his arms and Akira grabbing his tail with careful hands— readjusting once he was out of the pool. Mermen were heavier than humans, with a tail extending their weight to almost the weight of an adult man and a half. 

He could carry the merman on his own surely, if they weren’t as pressed for time. But they could wake up at any moment, now. And they still had to go back to grab all the stolen jewels they’d dropped at the sight of a siren, too.

This was going to be something.

But, well. He’d seen the Phantom Thieves carry well over triple their weight in gold onto a ship with beaming smiles. He had a tough crew.

Though the gold didn’t usually strike them back, once stolen. And he’s not so sure how the merman would react when he understood they weren’t throwing him overboard to the sea, but carrying him onto _another_ unknown ship.

He’d probably flip or attempt at drowning them at the very least, so they had to proceed with Caution. He makes Futaba stay on standby, a bag of fragrant dormina flowers stashed in her pocket to make him sleep for a while, worst case scenario.

If he could help it, he’d like to refrain from drugging the merman, though.

So that leaves them to carry him, once again. It goes smoothly until they get closer to the ship’s edge, and Akira, now brunting the weight of the merman’s top half, tries to reign him in so they don’t lose him into the sea.

With a wound like that on his tail, the merman would surely die untreated, after all. Not that he’d know that—just wanting to escape to open waters once again.

“Almost there,” Akira mutters as he tightens his grip, getting to the most important part. Haru and Futaba run across the plank, waiting to greet them on the other side.

The merman tries to tilt Akira’s grip into letting him overboard, and Akira reels him backward. 

That’s when the _real_ fun begins.

The merman seems to sense that he’s not being released, no—but taken onto another ship, and turns as far as his neck allows him to, glaring at Akira, and trying to get full use of his hands back as he attempted tossing himself around. Akira walks faster.

“Futaba!” He calls.

“On it.” She says, running up to his side as he drags the merman over safely to the Phantom Thieves boat, and lays him down, holding his thrashing arms away from Futaba.

She holds the dormina flowers up to the mermans’ nose, and he recoils, afraid, then angry—before the drug really gets to his senses, and his force slackens, eyes rolling closed.

Dormina was a potent flower, and he already knew firsthand that it worked on sirens (Thanks, Takemi). They all back away for a moment, catching their breath as they stare at the sleeping creature, much easier to view up close when asleep like this.

“...So, what now?” Futaba asks, looking to them. She’s met with multiple shrugging notions from their crewmates.

Akira sighs, not wanting to admit that he didn’t much know what to do past this either. They were all so clearly hesitant on taking on a creature they didn’t know much about, couldn't even _approach_ for the most part. Even while drugged and asleep, his crew keeps their distance.

Joker taps his feet, impatient. What was he doing, really? They didn’t seem to want anything to do with the merman—which meant it was a task he’d have to take care of himself, as to not make them uncomfortable. It was his idea to help.

He just wanted this to be a smooth mission like any other, but if it had anything to do with Shido, of course it couldn’t be executed flawlessly.

He sighs. “I never really use the bath in my room, I guess. Help me take him there.”

~

When the merman awakes, Akira is at the side of the tub, already peering down into it and watching the man come to, eyes hazy and tired before widening. He’s lashing for Akira’s throat in a second, swiping out of the water and missing by a centimeter.

“Good morning to you too.” Akira says, smirk catching on his lips.

The merman hisses in his face, Akira just out of reach. 

“Sorry for putting you out like that. I didn’t want to resort to that, but I couldn’t risk you charming my entire team into drowning themselves, either. You understand, right?” He’s hoping the merman is feeling generous with sympathy today. He really didn’t want to do it, after all. But he doesn’t know him well enough yet to decide on whether he would have launched his teammates into the jaws’ of sharks if he had the time to.

The merman growls, eyes narrowed into slits, murder clearly on the mind.

_Ok, no deal then._

Akira lips pursed together. “Look, you have a nasty wound on your tail, undoubtedly caused by those pirates.”

No response, just staring.

“If you were to go into the ocean with that, something much bigger or more threatening than me will get to you first. Maybe even another boat of pirates, ones that won’t care to check your wounds or feed you. You don’t want that, right?” _I don't want that, either._ For reasons he doesn’t understand, himself.

All this merman has done is lashed out at them so far.

The merman sinks into the water, clearly not listening. If he understood the language, even. He drifts, looking at Akira in the small space of saltwater.

“I’m _sorry,_ okay?” Akira says, palms up. “I’d give you a bigger tub if I could, but you won’t be here for that long. _Just_ enough to heal, all right? We’ll keep you safe.” He knows that nobody would be able to help him in the water. Medical help? With what siren population? This is the first siren he’d seen since his own parents.

Now, things he’d like to ask come to mind, and he feels on edge, wanting to sate his own curiosity. Maybe that’s where the intrigue truly started. He’s finally talking with one of his own, after all these years. After he’d given up on finding his own parents, thinking he’d never cross them again in the seven seas.

He’d like to know more, if he can. What was it like, after all these years? Where had he come from?

How did he end up here?

“Actually… You’re the first I’ve seen in a while. How on earth did his men capture someone like _you_?” 

It feels pointless asking more than one at a time, as the merman doesn’t seem to talk to begin with.

He looks Akira’s way, something dark in his eyes as spits water over the edge. 

_So that’s how It’ll be, huh?_

He tries to reel back the disappointment, and repress a migraine. He stands up. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. 

….Maybe he could ask another time.

“It’s fine, I don’t expect you to be happy about the situation. You can pout—the bathroom is all yours. I’ll come back later to bring you food.” He frowns. The merman was looking skinny, on top of the injuries. Did Shido’s men have any tact? Or were they willing to sell a half dead mermaid to the highest bidder?

“I’ll leave you, then.” Akira goes to close the door behind him.

“ _You’re a liar._ ” The guy responds gruffly, voice scratchy and accented. Unused. Akira’s hand halts on the cold metal doorknob, and looks over his shoulder, trying to repress the surprise.

“So you _do_ understand me.” He states, sounding way too interested, voice coated with childish fascination.

The man scoffs. Akira watches as he avoids eye contact, and ignores his existence now that he’s said his piece.

“I Haven’t lied to you, though.” Akira promises with a frown, letting those words sink in. “I will let you go. I just want you to _survive_ after I do. Is that so much to ask?”

Silence. The tap drips, and it’s the loudest sound yet.

Akira huffs. “I know how to fix a wound like yours. _Trust me._ ”

The creature sends him one last dwindling gaze, a response enough in it’s own. He didn’t believe Akira. He feels guilt settle in his gut.

“...It’s fine. I didn’t introduce myself earlier, did I?” the least he could do was give his real name, so he didn’t feel as disingenuous as this merman was making him feel. “My friends referred to me as Joker, but that’s just a code name. My name is Akira Kurusu. Did you have a name?” 

It might not hurt to try and be friendly with what was essentially going to be his bunkmate for the next few weeks, right?

But no give. The man looks at him wordlessly before burying his head under the warm, salted tub water. Bubbles fly up to the surface, indicating the mermaid was either going to take a nap, or maybe screaming. He can’t be too sure. Akira felt similarly. 

He turns to the door again. With that, he leaves his quarters for the afternoon, and tries to think about other things—like all the jewels and gems they acquired and could sell at the next town.

It doesn’t do much to help the pit in his stomach. The look the merman had given him makes him feel no better than the previous captors.

~

Feeding time proves to be difficult.

“ _C’mon man,_ eat the stupid fish!” Ryuji says, holding the crisply baked thing by its fins. Akira could almost laugh at the disgust clearly written on the mermans face, long brown hair not hiding the furrow of eyebrows in the slightest, as he inches away from Ryuji’s outstretched hand. 

Akira had set boundaries early on; Nobody was to come into his room without him there to guard them. He was the only one resistant to the mer’s call other than Morgana, and therefore a safe bodyguard to keep his friends out of harm's way. He can’t leave the job to Morgana—while the cat couldn’t be deceived by the whims of a merman, he could however be punted right out the window by a charmed teammate, as Ryuji had artfully stated.

Having a merman on deck really keeps the crew curious, unlike the first signs of discomfort they showed. It might be the newness of it all, or just the attraction of a Siren luring them in. But ever since the man was brought onto the ship, Akira finds they all just want to take turns meeting the guy.

Which means Akira’s in his own room 24/7, for a while.

He stands against the door with his arms crossed, frowning at the scene in front of him taking place.

“You have no class, Ryuji.” Yusuke scolds, kindly. “Who would eat a fish like that? Here—I’ve cut another fish into fine bite-sized slices. I’m sure this is more to your liking.” Yusuke boasts, holding out his tray of sashimi slices decorated with garnish. He looks so proud, having made an artistic dish on top of his previous creations.

Only to have the merman slap it away, sending the tray and gooey fish pieces onto the bathroom wall, and leaving an aghast expression frozen on Yusuke’s features, a mixture of anger, pain, and confusion.

Akira hides a laugh by coughing into his hand instead.

They turn to him. Ryuji looks tired. “You got any better ideas, Akira?”

“Some, yes.” Akira says with a smile. He approaches, reaching into his satchel to unwrap the catch he had planned for the merman’s dinner.

He dangles a large yellowtail by the fins, raw and freshly caught. They all look to the merman’s reaction. 

Interest is obvious, but caution still lies there, as he holds himself pasted against the back wall. His eyes follow the swaying fresh meat like a pendulum, though.

Yusuke looks between the two, a grimace forming slowly. “Well, I can’t count for aesthetics here, but… as long as he eats it, I _guess._ ”

Ryuji’s nose scrunches. “Can’t we like… cook it first?”

“Do you think Sirens harvest fire underneath the waterbed some way, Ryuji? I think he’d prefer it raw.” Yusuke deadpans.

“ _Shut up!_ It’s not like I was the one dicing it practically into a smoothie for the guy—Do you think they have knives down there, either?”

“Well, I suppose they could raid—”

“Enough, you two.” Akira groans, and walks to the tub edge, holding the fish out.

The merman narrows his eyes, as per their usual transactions with each other. Distrust floats between them, mostly harboured on the merman’s side. Akira just wants the guy to recuperate and get out of his tub. Sort of, anyway. He could use a hot, de-stressing bath after all this.

“It seems he doesn’t want it..?” Yusuke mentions, quietly.

Akira sighs. He can see the merman practically drooling, all while holding himself back. Eyes could be oh-so-telling, even if he was trying to remain cool and unconcerned with his new human acquaintances. 

“Maybe you both should leave for the time being. I think this could be uncomfortable for him, three people staring at him. Kills an appetite.”

Ryuji puts his hands up, and stands, already halfway out the door. “Fine with me—I’m done trying. Good luck, Joker.”

“It’s fine with me as well. Maybe the merman just has a fair appetite like myself—I can’t see any reason to reject the food I so delicately crafted.”

“Oh, give me a break! Stick to the canvas, Fox. You don’t know how to feed yourself, much less make a good meal for someone else.”

“How rude.”

The rebuttals carry on through the hall behind the closed door, bickering getting louder as they leave. 

Akira didn’t mind them in the room, but he thinks it’s a fair accusation that the merman wasn’t too interested in taking food from them. Yusuke’s chopped delicacies could have easily been tampered with, and Ryuji’s—well. Most merpeople didn’t prefer crispy, to say the least.

Leaving the only reason The merman wasn’t taking Akira’s food was because he didn’t trust Akira. He clearly liked the idea—eyes following it so hungrily, but trying to keep himself at bay.

“I didn’t do anything to it. You’re hungry, right? The quickest way to get better is to eat good, you know.”

The merman scoffs. Akira frowns. _Fine_ , he’ll do this his own way then. He’s always been petty when it came to proving a point.

He takes a huge, raw bite out of the fish, chewing the bland and bloody raw meat before holding it out to the merman, still trying to get through a bit. The merman uncrossed his arms, and the watchful but cautious look is wiped clean off his face, warping into clear interest. 

His eyes brighten, if anything. Shock, maybe.

It’s not the grossest thing he’s even done. But after years of eating cooked and prepared food, buffets and wine after selling treasure—he’s not sure he likes the rubbery, slimy basic sustenance he remembers from childhood in the ocean.

Raw fish was not great. But if eating it would prove he didn’t tamper it... well. 

Here’s _hoping_ it sells that way. Or else he just swallowed something gag-worthy for nothing.

After he swallows, and the merman watches his cheeks and throat, surely for any sign of faking it with parted lips. And then, as if a chord had been cut, snaps forward with long fingers, reaches out and snatches the fish from Akira’s outstretched hand. He holds it close like a prize and goes to town, eyes not leaving Akira as he downed the thing with big bites, slow at first, but exceeding in speed as he seemed to realize his own hunger.

Akira smiles, sitting in the stool Yusuke was in previously, and waits till the merman is done with the fish. Mostly to clean up the bones.

“Good,” He praises, as the merman finishes the meal. There’s blood in the water, droplets falling off his fingers and dissipating when they hit the surface. “Do you want more?” He asks the merman, liking the way his position loosens up, sitting taller, eager for another as that long tongue scoops across sharp canines, still hungry. 

The creature reluctantly nods, and Akira passes another one of their finer catches over, enjoying the more peaceful stance on the merman.

He’s there just watching, all afternoon, chin in hand. 

He hopes he can get that expression back more often.

~

Futaba likes the merman, and is the one who hangs around him most at first.

Akira comes back into his room for a short nap after they’ve arranged a delivery with Sae and her crew. They were fellow authorities who’d return the stolen goods for them. Most of the time, they were placed in the Shibuya harbour. They stopped by often, it being their home island and all.

Well, most of them. Him and Futaba stayed in Yongen, an even smaller island to the South-west.

He lies down, communications done for the day, and not really bothering to check the bathroom—he’s sure the merman has just flooded it again—

—when he hears _giggling_ echoing from the other room. 

He sits up and walks into the room slow and skeptically, only to see Futaba on the floor within the room, as her head whips around, eyes worried and face frozen like she was a child with her hand was caught in the cookie jar. 

The merman’s tail flickers around, but for the most part, he looks unconcerned. Tired, even.

“Futaba.” He says. “You should have told me you’d be in here. What if he’d hurt you?” Akira scolds, lightly. He doesn’t want to scare her, but it felt like his own crew didn’t know what they were _dealing_ with. Sirens were famous murderers of humans; did they think they were all safe since he was in Akira’s bathtub, out of his element? 

_They’d be wrong._

She gives him a wobbly frown. “I’m sorry… Everyone but you and me are visiting home today. ...I thought he might be lonely, that’s all.” She smiles, half-heartedly with a shrug. He can tell she’s a little bummed about everyone visiting their families—he knows she misses Sojiro, and was probably projecting onto the siren, presumably also far from home.

“Well, let’s leave him alone for now.” He pushes, opening the door for her to leave. Not to mention, the merman looked next to dozing off. He watches them go with half-open eyes as he slips into the water, eyes not looking up for a fight.

“...Do you think he has a family, out there?” She mumbles when they’re in Akira’s room again. He can probably hear them talk even here, but he’ll humor her.

Akira pats her head. “I’d say… probably not. A pod, maybe?” But even that was only a little possible. There weren’t tons of sirens out there anymore, most hunted or moved to land, like him. Those that laid their eggs would guard them until hatching and become old enough to hunt, and leave anyway. Survival of the fittest, and all that.

Or just leave, when the going got rough. They weren’t exactly _close_ creatures.

...Maybe that was just his family. He can’t really judge for most, as he hadn’t known any other than himself in a long, long time. 

Until now, that is.

“That’s sad.” Futaba frowns. “Do you think he understands us, at all?” 

“Maybe. A little, at least.” he remembers the other day, the hoarse word leaving the merman’s throat. “I think he enjoys you here, if that’s what you’re worrying about.” He didn’t look that calm in Akira’s presence, after all.

She smiles to Akira, and pushes up her glasses. “Well, I hope so. I just ranted my guts out to him, after all. Expecting a reaction, but not really getting much.” She sighs. “Do you think he has a name?”

“I’m sure he does.” It just might not be in a pronounceable language to the human tongue, instead the vowels might be bubbles, and the rest high, shriek-like whines on every other syllable. “For now, maybe let’s give him a name?” Akira comments.

“Hmm. Crow.” She settles on, after a pause and tapping of the chin.

“Why that?” Akira laughs. The name doesn’t suit him at _all._

“Don’t know.” She shrugs. “Can’t think of anything else, and there’s been one sitting on your open windowsill for the past forty five minutes.” He looks up as she points. Sure enough, a black bird sits soundlessly on his bedroom windowsill, flapping its wings as if it knows it's being looked at.

“Fine. Until he tells us his name, that works.”

When he returns to the bathroom to check up on him, Crow blows bubbles on the water’s surface, looking annoyed.

Yep. He _definitely_ heard them.

~

By day five, the wound is healing nicely. But changing bandages is a bitch. Not because of his lack of medical skills, no.

It was because getting _near_ Crow’s tail not to mention touching it seemed to be a crime to the man, and always ended up with Akira being hurt in the end.

First, somehow, he drains the tub. It only gets harder from there.

“Just stay still, yeah? I promise, I’m just cleaning and redressing the wound. Then you can do your thing, and sleep all day while I toss you the occasional snack. Sound fair?”

Crow hisses wildly in protest, tail thrashing as Akira gets near.

Akira would like to use less restraint when it came to keeping his wounds untouched, but it’s hard when your patient is trying to wrestle you into a headlock instead of taking the treatment gratefully.

“Crow, come on!” Akira almost begs, holding him in place with one hand as best as he can. He should have called someone in here for this, but last time he asked Yusuke to help, Crow had tried to charm him into walking out of the room, right into the wall as a joke. 

Yusuke had found it to be an “intriguing experience” but for all that Akira was concerned, Crow could have done far worse with skills like that. The worry doesn’t quite leave him from then on.

Akira cleaned those wounds on his own, after that.

“This’d be quicker if you helped me.” He says through gritted teeth, finally in a position where he could slather the waterproof balm—Amrita, Haru had called it—on Crow’s tail, just barely coating the wound surface before Crow hissed in pain again, and launches forward for his throat.

“I’m done, I’m done!” Akira says, batting the taloned claws away from his neck or face. 

He heaves in breathes he was holding throughout the experience, and catches his breath.

Why did everything have to be a fight with Crow?

“Ryuji was in an explosion once, you know. You can’t tell, right? It’s because I’m amazing at treating people. _Super_ excellent. Mostly because when I have patients, they aren’t usually _fighting me while I try to help them out._ You’re quite the exception, aren’t you?” He dusts himself off as he recoils from the tub, as if brushing his hands over his clothes would make them less soaked.

Crow titters again, a victorious and mocking noise, pulling himself against the force of gravity and trying to sit up, if only to share a vicious look with Akira. His claws dug into the tub ledge, grating against it with sharp claws in an unnecessary fury.

One of his fingers were bleeding, digging into the sharp metal of the tub.

“Stop that. You shouldn’t even be the angry one here, geez.” Akira tsks, knocking his hand away lightly. He goes to fill Crow’s tub up, and when close, realizes how tired he looks, bags under his eyes and animosity generally toned down from his usual. His skin didn’t look so vibrant either, flaking on his nose from so much air exposure.

He looked like he was giving up.

Akira feels something thrum awfully in his chest. A bad idea coming to mind, and an itch in his hands. A sinking worry in his gut, even when he’s trying to be annoyed at the person who just attacked him for trying to be helpful.

“...Say,” He asks, slow. “If you promise not to hurt me, or stray far, how about a swim? You look like you need it.”

Crow eyes him warily for a moment, body tucked close and small.

He nods his head, just once.

~

“Hey Joker, what’chu up to—whoa!” Morgana greets, trotting up to him before his hair flies upward, standing on end. Crow clutches tighter around Akira’s neck, tail falling limp and heavy past his arms, fins reaching to the boards, almost.

“What are you doing with him?” Morgana asks, voice apprehensive but curious as he follows along with Akira’s fast pace.

Crow was heavy, but he needed to learn to carry the man on his own at a fast pace; especially considering that Crow had a liking to charming his easily influenced crew, happy to send them in a daze off ledges if he was able. Hasn’t worked so far, but can’t be too cautious, right? He’ll do it on his own.

Oddly enough, the only one Crow seemed reluctant to charm or hurt was Futaba. Whether it was because she was the youngest and less threatening, or because she visited him the most, Akira’s not sure. He won’t really question it. He’s glad Crow can trust somebody on this ship to an extent, even if it wasn’t him.

He’s pretty sure Futaba couldn’t carry Crow’s weight, though. So there’s that option gone.

“I’m letting him swim for a while.” Akira says calmly, as if it’s a fine idea. Like a stroll on the beach and leisurely wade through the ocean, and not letting a dangerous and angry creature into the water around them to leave for good.

“Come on… That’s not the best idea, right?” Morgana asks. “Are you pitying him, Akira?”

He ignores that last part when he replies. “He doesn’t look so good.” Akira defends. “He’s been in a cramped tub worse than what we found him in. He needs to stretch his fins out to heal right, too; Part of rehabilitation, and all that.” He won’t lie to himself—he wants to see what Crow looks like swimming, too. It might be weird, but he’s curious what he looked like in his element, and not in a meter long tub, confined movement-wise. Everything about Crow so far has been like a whiplash of haunting nostalgia from his past, and this would be no different, he’s sure.

But Crow’s existence is becoming something odd to him. Something he misses, even if he’s never been around one of his own kind for long before.

“Are you sure he’s not faking it?” Morgana sounds wary. “He could be faking it. They’re creatures of lies and charms, right?! He could be baiting you into—”

“Morgana,” Akira sighs, as if to remind him of his own heritage. “I think it’ll be okay.” Also, he’s pretty sure he could catch up to Crow swimming, even on legs. He’ll keep that part to himself though. He has a feeling Crow is the competitive, spiteful sort, and would test his theory.

Morgana gulps. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just help me watch him, okay? And alert the crew if anything goes wrong.” He’d be doing this while everyone but Morgana was sleeping, after all.

“Fine. just know I don’t like it.”

“I appreciate this, Morgana.”

 _“Meh.”_ Morgana sniffs.

The water is black as night around them as he approaches the dock at the harbour. They were at the dock of Aoyama Island, a quiet, small place just a short distance from Shibuya. The quieter backside of the island, if you will, with no more than a few residents at most. Ones he knew personally, and if his little secret got revealed, wouldn’t say a word to anyone.

The truth was, most of the people who knew the Phantom Thieves feigned ignorance, for the safety of both parties.

But it was the middle of the night, and he’s pretty sure it was late enough that nobody would bother them other than Morgana, probably trying to give them a curfew much sooner than Crow would like to return.

“Here we go,” Akira says, setting foot onto the sands past the dock. “Almost there.” 

Crows fingers curl into his hair pleasantly. Looking down, he could see Crow’s red eyes gleaming in the moonlight, mouth parted and sharp teeth just barely visible. He looked almost excited.

He wades into the black sea until the darkness reaches his middle, and Crow gets antsy in his arms, wiggling out of his grasp and so eager to be enveloped in the cold stretch of saltwater just under his fingers and fins.

“Be free,” Akira says dramatically, releasing Crow into the water. “—For like, forty minutes at most. I don’t want Makoto to catch us out here this late. She might kill me for this if she finds out.” _If you don’t first,_ He thinks worriedly, watching Crow meticulously as he swims around Akira’s ankles, the only tell that he’s there at all being his pale skin visible from the shallow sea level, and moonlight catching beautifully on those crimson scales, highlighting them every time he moved and caught light just the right way. Like little stars sparkling in the waves.

He’s entranced for a moment by the sight of it, like he’s experiencing his first heist all over again—the feeling he got when they finally found those piles of stolen jewels and treasure on Kamoshida’s boat rushing through his veins, making his heart pound.

Then, Crow rips his legs out from under him, and— _yep, should have expected this_ —is the only thought that crosses his mind as he’s plunged under the ice cold water.

It’s a distraction; soak your captor in sea water, and while he clears his eyes and coughs out his lungs, make a getaway! 

Or something like that.

Either way, Crow is off, and Akira feels his pulse race as he dives in after him, Morgana’s worried shouts going quiet once water plunges into his eardrums.

He’s a fast swimmer, with or without a tail. He catches up in no time at all, and enjoys the shock in Crow’s face as he approaches him by the tail.

Then, Crow is on him.

Crow’s eyes are reflective and bright, under the sea. Life fills them up like water fills his own lungs, and these aren’t the dead fish eyes he’s been staring at for the last week—no, they’re filled with rage, reinvigorated with purpose—ready to take the suffering out on Akira.

He drags him through the water, and they slide through waves like glass cutting against skin, smooth and without hurdles. Crow was on a mission, and he knew he had a time limit, thanks to Akira’s loud and clear forewarning of nobody being awake but him and Morgana. It would only take a minute or less to kill him, after all. Crow was determined, too; Whether it was anger directed at him, or his previous captors, he’s not all too sure.

 _Damn._ Even if he thought he’d be fine against Crow in the water, this wasn’t his element, after all. Not anymore, anyway.

Crow drags him downward, into the vortex of black, bubbles fading from his lips and passing to the surface, the only sign he’d been here at all.

Then, there’s claws wrapped around his throat. Those eyes reflect like gold, and not crimson rubies like his tail did.

“ _You were going to sell me like the cronies on that ship, weren’t you?”_ Crow hisses, in the language of sirens. “ _You were lying when you stated you were going to help me. You humans only care for yourself, after all._ ” 

It’s the most Crow has ever said, and it makes his eyes widen, as he coughs out bubbles. His lungs were emptying, but drowning wouldn’t be the way he would go. Ugh.

“ _You wanted to keep me complacent as you dragged me across the sea, right?_ ” an attractive, high laugh leaves his mouth, like some phonetic dolphin with an accent. “ _Lying to me to keep me quiet and less likely to hurt your friends. How disgustingly manipulative—If I hadn’t seen the things I have, maybe I would’ve believed you, too._ ”

It’s a rant, most likely feelings he’s been keeping in for a while. Akira won’t shame him for that, but he’s really trying to gut the wrong guy, here. 

“ _You’re wrong,_ ” Akira hisses, in his native language. It’s fun to see the shock enter Crow’s eyes as those gripping hands loosen like cut strings around his throat. 

He likes surprising Crow, he’s starting to realize. His expressions are fun. 

“ _We’re trying to help anyone who needs it out here. Did you think we would leave you there, that day?_ ” Akira asks him. Crow looks startled, like he’s been met with an outcome he didn’t expect. He doesn’t reply, either.

Well, it probably was a shock. Most siren didn’t pose as humans, did they? Or, well, they did. But a lot probably leave the sea to waltz off on feet and marry handsome fishermen—not to become pirates themselves, the thing they feared.

He can hear muffled calls from above, and when he looks, sees flashes of light hitting the water’s surface. He stares at Crow, who backs off, looking startled as he looks between the surface and Akira.

Then, with one last look, he’s gone. Whisked away by the tides like a fleeting dream, leaving no proof he was ever there to begin with.

Akira sighs, letting the feel of water entering his lungs take the edge off, before swimming closer to the boat—to the surface, black hair plastering to his eyes.

“He’s over here!” Haru calls, candlelight in hand. He hears heavy thumps across the dock, that of multiple people. He swims to shore, sopping wet like a drowned cat, baggy clothes sticking to him like layers of heavy, saggy skin. 

“Are you okay, Akira!?” Futaba asks, running toward him, towels in hand. The rest aren’t that far behind, surrounding him with words of comfort or questions, seeing if he was okay. A towel is wrapped around his back, and another across his head, drying his hair.

“You must be _freezing!_ What were you thinking, going out into the ocean with Crow?” Makoto shrieks, anger evident in her tone, wrapped in a tight loop along with concern and worry. “And what happened to your neck?!”

 _Ah. right._ Strangle marks would probably be present by now, huh?

Akira smiles sadly. “Sorry for worrying you all. I was being an idiot.”

“Damn right you were, but you’re fine! That’s all that matters now.” Ryuji says. Then, his voice lowers. “Crow did that, didn’t he?” Ryuji asks, pointing to his neck.

Akira nods. Not much needs to be said there. “It’s fine. He backed off when you guys showed up, and he realized that I’m also…” he trails off, waving his hand around for emphasis. Not anything they didn’t know, and not anything he really wanted to say too loud. “You know.”

“We know.” Haru affirms, drying his hair for him. He smiles appreciatively when their eyes meet.

“That truly was idiotic.” Makoto says again, quieter. “...Did anything else happen?”

“Well, he left, for starters.” Akira comments bluntly.

Ann sighs. “Maybe it’s for the best? If he was trying to hurt someone helping him, maybe he was already a lost cause…” Even she sounds uncertain. Saddened.

Akira hums affirmation, showing he heard, but doesn't respond. No, that wasn’t the actions of a dying man, long past the deep end. That was the actions of someone who still had plenty of will to survive. He believes Crow would be fine on his own, despite being bitter and a little bit sad about it.

He liked Crow, homicidal tendencies or not. Most Siren had them, he’s pretty sure. it was kind of like a quirky little genetic trait for most, as far as he knows. He could get past that.

“Well… we can talk about it in the morning, right? Let’s get you warm, and back to bed.” Yusuke offers, and Makoto agrees. They all nod along to the idea, pulling him back to the deck.

He smiles. “Thanks, you guys.”

~

Things are quieter, without Crow around.

They set off of Shibuya toward Yongen, in need of another round of medical supplies from Takemi before their next battle. On top of that, he wanted another dosage of medication to keep his legs from conjoining into a tail if he spent too long in the water, like he was beginning to because of Crow.

Their checklist for the day now felt too empty, trading and making deals with other islanders taking up only half their time, when it used to make the days feel long and too full. Half of their passed around chores included caring for Crow; making sure he was well fed, groomed, and healing right.

Or, maybe that was just Akira who felt empty about the whole thing. He now had plenty of time, none of it being put to use guarding a creature on deck.

They all seem to drop the subject, as if all is normal, but making it obvious they thought about it, biting their tongues halfway through sentences involving him . Even Futaba mourns silently for a couple of days, sitting by the water's edge and looking along the waves, as if he’d pop back up. He lets her do so—he knows she liked talking to him, even if he didn’t talk back.

It’s silent for about four days, before he comes crashing back into their life.

“Akira!” Futaba’s shouting, running loudly across the deck until she’s in front of him, the force so quick it brushes his trenchcoat back like the sea breeze. He steadies her by the shoulders. 

“Easy, Futaba. What’s up?”

“It’s Crow!” She says, almost choking on air. “He’s following us, behind the boat.”

He blinks. “Show me.” He requests. An order, maybe.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Crow, too.

~

Well, Futaba’s not lying, even if he thought she might have just been overly hopeful at the sight of a pink dolphin. He didn’t get his hopes up, but now he finds himself surprised, as he stares down into the waves of their slow moving ship and seeing Crow leisurely pace around the stern, eyes dark and non-revealing as usual.

He looked almost annoyed, actually. 

“What do we do? Can we go down and see him?” Futaba asks, almost excited. 

He grabs her shoulder. “I don’t know if that’d be the wisest, despite getting where you’re coming from.” he points to his own neck. “Remember?”

Her shoulders and smile drop. “Oh, yeah…”

He pats her head. “Let’s see what he’s up to first. Then, I can go down with you.” _Preferably when we dock in Yongen,_ He thinks. He knows crow only tried to hurt him when he wouldn't let him escape, but he’s not willing to throw Futaba out like bait to see if they were still on okay terms, despite their previous getting along. 

Sojiro would kill him if he did that, anyway.

For now, he tells his crew to keep a watchful eye out for what Crow was up to. Even if he was the one taking the most glances down at the sea, looking for him.

~

The night goes by and Akira is sleepless.

There’s only so much ease in going asleep to the sound of waves brushing up against the boat when you wonder if every sound was too loud or silent, straining your ears for a telling sound of a tail hitting the boat, or nails scratching their way up the sides.

He wasn’t afraid of Crow. Fear would be feeling his gut drop at the thought of Crow wreaking havoc on the bottom of their ship, or climbing his way on board.

Akira almost _anticipates_ it—he wanted to see what Crow would do next. Maybe not the wrecking the boat part—but he wants to know what the man is thinking. To say he’s upset Crow was back would be an absolute lie. He was intrigued and awaited his next move, like some weird sense of chase. He’s drawn, for sure.

It came with the whole siren package, didn’t it? He blames his interest on that. They were alluring by nature, after all.

And then, like a sign, he hears the loud thump outside the room. He’s up in a moment, not even bothering to pull a coat over his bare arms before he’s outside the captain’s cabin, looking for the ruckus.

Sure enough, Crow is onboard, flopping like a fish out of water as his tail curls uncomfortably on the wood floor of the ship, and he struggles with gravity. It’s not nearly as graceful as he looked in the water, and Akira lets out a snort.

Crows head turns sharply, sending a startled, heated look to Akira.The tension is high between them for only a moment, before it simmers to a halt, and Crow’s stance becomes less defensive, more intrigued as his head raises to look at Akira curiously; his tail slinks easily against the floorboards, not in a hurry, suddenly. 

Akira very well doesn’t expect Crow to come to him (oh, the _splinters_ ), so he takes a hesitant step forward. Crow flinches, just slightly, but doesn’t resist the attempt. Doesn’t hiss at him, gills flaring and eyes sharp and murder-ready like previous times. 

He looks like he wants to be angry, though, if the creased brows and sullen look are anything to go by.

Akira doesn’t know how to place that.

Instead, he sits down, a good foot away, curiosity getting the best of him once again. “How’d you get in the boat?” He asks, already knowing. Crow’s fingers were bleeding again, nails tough and unshredded, delicate skin of his fingers softened from seawater bleeding at the tips.

He climbed his way up, alright. Probably along the ropes, and maybe hauling himself up by the worn rough wood, too. It was impressive. 

But _why_ was he so determined? After trying so hard to escape, too.

Crow sees Akira eyeing his fingers, and leans back, pulling them along his sides, like he wanted to hide them.

“Let me see?” Akira says, scooting closer.

Crow lashes out, flicking his tail up defensively, like a snake ready to strike. Akira stares, mesmerized.

“You don’t want to hurt me,” Akira snorts. “Right? Or did you come back for that, after all?” He seemed so conflicted with himself. But the statement was hopeful.

Crow watches him, eyes narrowed.

“You failed once already, remember? And after I was honest about helping you, too. Yeesh.”

Crow looks down at this, not meeting his eyes. His tail lowers, and his mouth parts like he wants to say something. Akira decides to take his chances, and swoops in, sitting beside him.

Crow looks at him with wide, pretty eyes. The lashes are long, clumped together and wet, but Crow doesn’t look like he’s scared. 

_He_ almost looks mesmerized, this time. 

“Did I surprise you?” Akira grins. He’s not talking about just now, or tonight at all. “ Bet you didn’t expect me to be one of your kind, of all things. Really put a wrench in your scheme, huh?”

Crow lowers his eyes, looking frustrated. He hesitantly reaches out with the clean hand. Akira waits for it, wanting to see where this will go. Will Crow try to strangle him again? Grind nails across his face this time, for playing games? He’s not really sure. It’s not like he’s going to get a straight answer out of Crow, though. He waits because actions speak louder than words and all that—but really, crow was just stubborn as hell, and didn’t want to talk.

Crow takes his hand, and smooths it along the top of his collarbones, sliding up to the still fading purple hand marks around his throat. Light like a feather, even if his hand glided from the wet texture. Crow looks at his neck from under long, brown hair. Gaze hesitant, and hands gentle. Akira swallows, and knows Crow feels it, hand still curved softly at his throat.

Oh. 

Okay, then.

Was this his idea of an apology?

His theory is only confirmed when those eyes make it up to his, full of swirling remorse and creased brows dipping inward. He only has body language to go on, but it sure feels like the merman’s way of saying _Sorry._

Akira clears his throat. “You don’t… need to apologize.” 

What? Why would he say that. It’s not like he _appreciated_ almost dying. But the look Crow gives him, like a small fire of hope lit in those eyes—he doesn’t want to rescind the statement. The small quirk of lips seals the deal, and he feels like he’s charmed, impossible in nature or not. 

How _dangerous._

The thought alone throws a wave of chill of reality down his spine, an odd warmth in his chest.

Ah, nope. This was not going to happen.

He had a deal with the Phantom Thieves, and now they were so close to their end goal. He wasn’t going to get distracted by a merman. Of _all the things_ to lose focus to.

He ignores his brain, for now, and speaks up.

“You must be tired from that climb. Will you at least let me clean your wounds, without lashing out at me this time? Hands, too.” He asks. Crow, after a moment, gives the smallest of nods.

He grins. “I’ll be right back, then.” He gets up, and dusts himself off before going off in search of Makoto’s med kit.

He really needed to get a grip. But despite being immune to the allure of the sea creature, he couldn’t seem to hold back his curiosity, either. The touch on his neck lingers in more ways than one, the icy wet touch turning into a warm imprint on his throat like a tattoo.

~

He returns with the supplies, and starts by thoroughly cleaning the wound on Crow’s tail, which healed decently, despite Crow swimming for the last four or so days presumably. It looked like it would heal fully with only light scarring at this rate, hopefully someday no more than a scaled indent, just barely kissed into the skin. The fin, on the other hand—that might take a little more time. It couldn’t be held together and secured with cloth, so it might leave a weblike scar scoping up to the base of his tail. But he’s sure Crow doesn’t mind aesthetics like Yusuke did all too much.

Siren were only pretty to attract prey as a main hunting source. It’s not a like a sailor or maiden would bat an eye at a faded scar with a _merman_ in front of them.

Crow barely watches Akira’s hands as he deals with his tail. In fact, he looks at Akira’s face the whole time, eyes curious, like when they first met.

Akira sighs. “Are you staring because you’re waiting for me to tell you about why I don’t have a tail?” A brief glance upwards and he sees Crow nod, eyes inquiring. He ties the last of the bandaging around the cleaned wound, and lies back against the wall of the ship.

“I grew up in Yongen, if you must know. I only stayed in the water up until I was about… six? When I got seperated from my parents.” He frowns. He’s not especially ready to talk about that experience in much detail, despite the time passed. He didn’t _hate_ his parents for what they did, but… he shakes his head. _Too off track._

“Anyway,” He starts again. “Sojiro found me. You don’t know him, ah—Futaba? Short, red haired girl?” A nod from Crow. “It’s her dad. He took care of me on land—in Yongen, all the way until we were fifteen. I haven’t touched the water all that much since then, if I can help it. Gets in the way of the pirating business, you know? Having a tail and all.”

Crow stares at him, unimpressed. He shrugs.

“After that… some things happened. I had to go out to sea a lot around that time until now. The only reason I look fully human i the drugs that a friend—a witch friend—gives me, in exchange for me testing out her other drugs. The one she gives me wears off the more time i spend in the water, which is why i try not to go back too much.” He smiles. “It’s a process, but she wants to be a doctor on the mainland one day, so this exchange works out for both of us pretty well. Does that answer your question?”

Crows mouth does a funny thing, an odd shape that overall tells gives him a big hint of dissatisfaction and the answer no. Maybe he wanted to know why he stayed like this?

“I’m not very fond of the sea.” He muses, picking up Crows injured hands to clean and remove splinters. “It’s nothing tragic, but my memories of it aren’t so great. The only people who were really family to me were on land, so I stayed up here in human appearance. Is that what you wanted to know?”

This time, Crow does a tilt of the head, considering. He looks confused still, but then nods, eyes closing. Maybe he could relate to that, at least.

“Did you have any family? Friends?” Akira asks, at last, now that Crow seemed open to answering things. “I only knew of my own parents, but other than that, you’re the first I’ve seen since.” He wonders if there’s more. And if they’re as handsome as Crow.

_No, Akira. Stop there._

Crow looks sad, now. He nods, regardless. Akira doesn’t press that one any further, and thins his lips out. 

“I wonder how you got caught.” He admits, applying bandages to his fingers. “You were too fast for me, legs or not. I wonder how that pathetic groups of pirates caught you. They were tough, but they weren’t as strong as you.” 

Crow avoids his gaze, not rising to the bait. To talking, even if it meant defending himself.

So, they’ll keep their own respective secrets. He’s fine with that. He got the answers he wanted, anyway.

“Well.” He sighs. “I’m done.” 

Crow reels his tail up, feeling the bandages move, it seems. Examining Akira’s handiwork. He looks to his fingers, patched up as well. Akira smiles.

“Told you I could fix you up good.” It’s not like he hasn’t dealt with similar things on his own body before.

Akira stands up, and stretches. The moon is starting to sink into the sea, and that’s a tell as any what time it might be. 

He takes a deep breath. He knows what the smart course of action would be, but he feels torn. We wanted to get to know Crow, but their time was running short, and he didn’t think he should stick around for the morning crew.

It would hurt more for everyone when he left again then, wouldn’t it?

“It was nice meeting you.” He admits. “Even if you’ve been kind of a hassle, and all you’ve given me was some cat scratches on my arm. I’m glad you didn’t stay on that ship for any longer.” Akira admits. He looks down to Crow. “But... I think it’d be best if you left, without trailing behind us this time. We’re about to do something dangerous involving the same group of pirates, and if I can help it, I’d like to not get you involved.”

Crow looks up at this, gaze searching. Akira looks away.

“We’re pirates, we’re going to do raids again, and that’ll leave you—without legs, vulnerable. It’s for the best that you go.”

He runs a hand through his curly mop of hair. It’s a nervous habit he never quite ditched. “Did you need help getting back into the water?” He asks, as kindly as he can. He doesn’t want to send Crow away. He likes Crow. He likes that there’s someone just like him around for once; It was the first time he’s truly not felt alone, interested by the fact along that Crow had been the same species he thought to be extinct.

He loves The Phantom Thieves, dearly. But it was a little different, meeting someone who might understand his exact experiences and problems firsthand. Even though Crow didn’t speak, he wanted to know him. He wanted to be close to him.

But it was dangerous. Mostly for Crow.

Crow hasn’t moved since Akira blurted out his hasty, uncomfortable goodbye. Akira nods with a breath, and turns to leave. 

“Akira.”

He stops dead in his tracks. Turns slowly, to Crow, on the ground, looking at him, eyes searching.

“You… wanted to know my name before.” Crow speaks said in a fair tone, perfectly Japanese. Less scratchy, this time, like he’d practiced talking, if only to speak with him. It’s enchanting, and he stands with rooted feet, listening to Crow talk to him for the first time.

“My name is Akechi.” The merman says. “And...I don’t want to leave just yet. I’d like to help.”

Akira stares, feeling the authority he was trying to give crumble in to his own interests, feels himself pulled right back in by that voice that called his name, despite the repercussions it might have later on. All the problems he found earlier seemed to feel nonsensical as he pushed them aside, taking Crow’s— _Akechi’s_ —words to heart.

Sirens are dangerous creatures, indeed.

_Damn._

“Until your tail heals, then.” Akira feels the words tumbling from his lips, and knows it’s a bad idea as he speaks them. The unease is only softened by Akechi, whose grin is sharp, and highlighted by the rising morning sun.

“Until then.” He confirms.


	2. Chapter 2

Akira is always the last to wake up in the Phantom Thieves crew.

They all know by now he sleeps like a log, and he’s pretty sure they still like him regardless of that fact, so he doesn’t make any attempt to change it. There’s always light teasing, but he endures. If there’s ever an emergency, he’ll be out of his cabin in moments and ready for fight if need be, so they look past this one particularly lazy flaw of his. 

This afternoon is no different—he exits his cabin onto the main deck, and is greeted with noises of keeping busy from others—yet at the same time, everything is too quiet and calm, like a faded dream mashing around him; everything is moving slowly.

Ann smiles at him as he passes by her, whether at his wake-up time or the bedhead—he’s not totally sure. She ruffles his hair on the way, so he’s pretty sure it’s the latter. He doesn’t have it in him for actual protests, so he allows this to happen with a soft grumble.

“Morning, sunshine.” She laughs sweetly, twirling one of her own pigtails around a few fingers. “How’d you sleep?”

“Bad,” He replies, groggily. _Well._ It was mostly good. He just didn’t get _enough,_ that’s all. “Up all night,” he corrects for clarification, stifling a yawn. The fresh salty air is doing him some good though, and he feels himself slowly but surely come to full awakeness.

“Morgana needs to be stricter with you,” she tuts, arms crossed and shaking her head. After a look of pity though, she sighs. “...Well, if you want breakfast, Yusuke’s cooking with Futaba right now. Maybe food will help you a bit?”

He squints suspiciously. That sounds problematic, to say the least. Not the suggestion of food—the combination of Futaba and Yusuke, working _together_.

“Really?” _And they haven’t burned the ship yet?_ he almost tacks on.

She laughs, probably at his expression. “Ryuji told me what he said to him last week in front of Crow. Think he got offended by the ‘can’t cook’ accusation, so he’s trying his best.”

“And using up all our supplies?”

“And using up all our supplies.”

Akira sighs. He’ll be spending a little more than he wanted in Yongen, it seems. Oh well. He loves his crew, and is definitely willing to fork out a little bit extra to keep them having a good time.

Ann laughs. “Good luck with that,” she says, parting with a pat on the back. Before she leaves, she adds, “Oh! And make sure to bring Crow some breakfast too, would you? Futaba went fishing this morning.”

Akira freezes. How did she know about—

“Futaba told me she saw you two last night, from the crow’s nest while she was on watch. Everybody knows he’s back in your tub again.” She waves a hand, probably reading his worries from his expression.

He represses the urge to turn around, hide in his room, and face-plant into his mattress. Should’ve known he couldn’t hide him for long with people as bright as his team, or with someone as snoopy as Futaba. _Ahh, Queen is going to kill me,_ he thinks, shoulders drooping.

“Great. Alright. Yeah.”

She laughs into her hand, looking like she’s having fun. _At least one of us is,_ he thinks, mourning the time that’s going to be taken up by Makoto’s strict but good-intentioned yelling. “It’s fine, don’t overthink it. We’re sure it’ll be fine—he was pretty focused on you from the beginning, anyway. He was bound to come back around. Did he apologize, yet?”

_Just what does she mean by that?_

“He… sort of did.” Akira nods slowly, the ghost of Akechi’s hand tracing his throat. He swallows—he doesn’t really have time to linger, not with Futaba and Yusuke undoubtedly about to wreak havoc a floor under. “...I’m gonna go now. And his name’s Akechi, by the way.”

She nods. “Akechi, then. Get him some breakfast, too.”

He’s pretty sure his crew are really the ones leading him, sometimes. He doesn’t mind it so much. “Roger that.”

~

When he arrives in the kitchen, sure enough, it’s in disarray.

There’s some type of batter on the floor and stove corner, and a very smoky scent floating around the kitchen. There’s also plenty of paper towels crumpled up in the bin, and a lot of cut slices of fruit and different vegetables, all across the counter, that don’t seem to have anything to do with what they were making, from the smell of it.

And there’s Futaba and Yusuke, arguing about this in that in the center of the tornado.

Akira coughs loudly, and their heads turn his way.

“Akira!” Futaba says. “You’re up! Perfect! Tell Inari he’s wrong.”

Yusuke looks scandalized. “Excuse me? _You’re_ the one who put the timer on for the wrong time!”

“Yeah, But I thought you followed my _instructions?_ You added like, five more cups of fruit than you needed to. It’s muffins, not a tart! No wonder they turned out fried.”

“I simply thought we could put more flavor into these breakfast muffins. What’s wrong with that?”

“Uhhh, the color? The taste? The cook time? _Everything,_ now? You need to follow the recipe, stupid Inari!”

“I simply wanted to—”

“Akira,” Futaba whines, turning to him for support. “He put all my hard work and training to waste!”

“Yusuke,” Akira hums, tired. He sits down at the barstool. “Apologize to Futaba.”

“I’m appalled you’d take her side without the full story!” He scoffs, very serious, yet too theatrical for the amount of sleep he’s gotten. “She only gave me orders from her seat; she didn’t help at all. And now she’s mad that I messed up after she didn’t critique a thing!”

“Futaba,” he says, turning to her. “Apologize to Yusuke.”

“Are you kidding me?!” 

And then they’re at it again.

Akira sighs, but it goes unheard through yelling and loud voices. “Apologize to each other, okay? You’re both at fault. And also costing me money.”

They quiet down and look at the mess. Futaba bites her lip with nerves, and Yusuke seems to take on a grim expression at the realization they were being wasteful.

“Sorry, Inari….” Futaba mumbles, and slumps in her seat. He bows, just slightly, apologizing and excusing himself as well. It’s a stiff transaction, but as long as they don’t pulled weapons out on each other, it’s fine. Probably.

Yusuke excuses himself to grab more towels for disposing of the mess, which leaves him with Futaba. He tiptoes around the mess on the floor and grabs an apple left unscathed from their tart-muffin mess.

He only gets one bite in before Futaba decides it’s time they talked.

“Soooo, about last night.” Futaba breaks the silence, almost causing him to choke on the bite of acidic fruit he was trying to get down. 

His eyes narrow in her direction. “Yes, Ann told me. Spying _again_?” Okay. He admits, it was funny when it was on Ryuji’s attempts at wooing town girls. But when it’s on him? Not so comedic.

She throws her hands up. “You weren’t exactly hiding! You were out in the open, and he was flopping about all over the deck, making a lot of noise. I don’t have anymore books to read, what else did you want me to do on nightwatch?”

Akira sighs. He knows this probably wouldn’t lead anywhere good. “Ok. Fine. _Fine._ What about Akechi?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Akechi? Is that his name, after all?”

“Yes.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, then. _Akechi._ So what do you mean? He climbed about ship, right? You carried him to your cabin. He’s in the tub again, right?”

She looks like she’s teasing him, but he also knows she’s curious anyways. He takes another bite of his apple.

“...Yes.” He confirms.

She frowns. “That can’t be good for him.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I tried to get him back into the sea, but he didn’t like that idea, seemingly.”

“You sure didn’t _look_ like you were trying to throw him overboard. Quite the opposite, really...”

“ _Futaba…_ ” He grumbles.

“I’m just telling you what I saw.” She feigns innocence, holding her palms up to him.

He thinks about the night before. “Yeah, well, he can be… convincing.” He hisses. He hates this conversation. They’ve all been smiling at him like they know something he doesn’t, and it’s starting to make him feel out of place. He takes his annoyance out on the apple in his hand with another bite.

“I thought siren speech didn’t affect other sirens?” Futaba asks, hopping onto one of the bar stools to sit with him.

 _Me, too._ “It doesn’t.”

“Oh.” She tilts her head. “...So you just like him, then?” She doesn’t sound like she’s mocking him, this time. 

“...He’s not so bad,” Akira says thoughtfully through a bite. “He hasn’t told me why he came back yet, though.” Ann might’ve been right that it had something to do with him, though. Akechi certainly tried his best at wordless apologies last night.

“Well, you have time to ask now, right?” she asks.

“Yep.” He grins. After a quick scan of the room, and her sudden interest in cooking with Fox, he has a realization. “Were you hoping to curry favor with him by making sweets?”

“Well, yeah,” she grumbles, cheeks turning pink. “He talks now, right? Maybe he’ll accept other things now. Oh, but I caught him something, too, if he doesn’t. Had some time earlier.” There’s barely pause between her words. “When can we see him?”

He shakes the half-eaten apple around. “When I’m done with breakfast.” 

At least his crewmates aren’t mad that the siren is back on deck, then, despite the problems that had seemingly arisen from it before. He doubts the same feelings will be shared across the whole crew (he has a few people in mind who might not like this outcome), but hopefully, they can be convinced.

They’re quite the forgiving bunch.

And maybe with them around, he might be able to sneakily get some of the answers he wanted. Like why Akechi was here now, trying to join their fight in the first place.

~

His crewmates all seem to follow him into the bathroom slowly after Akechi had eaten, like mice trailing quietly into the room one by one.

Makoto mutters about having questions for him, and Akira warns her quietly and kindly not to go too far. Futaba brings snacks of her own, like this is a show rather than a slight interrogation. Ann and Haru don’t seem too antsy—curious if anything. Yusuke seems pretty fine just sketching him from the corner, sharp eyes watching his tail fins twirl hypnotically outside the tub, glimmering and dripping water all over his floor. Morgana stays still at his hip, sitting on the stool at the wall, eyes trained on Akechi. They’re… sort of calm. Only a few of the bunch really seem to be edging on anxiety or hostility.

Akechi, on the other hand, sure looks unnerved by the multiple presences. 

He sinks slightly into the water, intimidated by the large group smushed together alongside his tub, barely enough room for the lot.

Ann is the most reckless of them all (as usual), and the first to make move to stop crowding tensely around the tub. She plants herself on the rim of it as Akechi stares at her—leaning back with only hands holding her upward, posture more on the playful side as she leans towards the water. Her earrings flicker in the light, red gemstones loose and dangling. Akechi’s eyes follow them, and Akira snorts from the sidelines at Akechi, whose eyes are clearly following the earrings enviously before Ann speaks.

“Hi again!” she says, brightly. “So, Akira told us you want to help us out, huh?”

“I…” Akechi starts, and they all seem to lean in to hear him, either because of his quiet demeanor, or the natural enchantment in a siren’s voice, pulling them close. “I do.”

“Why?” Makoto asks, arms crossed and looking protective as always. On guard. Akira closes his eyes. He told her not to be too harsh with Akechi—but he also doesn’t know how to explain to her that sirens go to murder as a first choice option in a tense situation. She looks at the man, brows furrowed, gaze sharp and interrogating.

“If you must know,” Akechi says, clearly unbothered by the stare. “I didn’t know you were the Phantom Thieves, when you took me in.”

Despite the fact that Akechi had been silent with them for the week straight, he speaks now with grace and proper pronunciation, a little rough from not being used—his voice is still airy and light, pleasant like a soft wind chime—high and alluring, but definitely mer, if you know what accent to look for.

Which meant his silence prior really was just... the silent treatment.

Akira sits straight up from leaning on the doorframe. “What does that change?” he asks. Akechi’s gaze snaps back to him, eyes focused, pupils slitted.

“Well…” He trails off, seemingly attempting to find words. “I’d heard of your tale from _them_. Those other pirates—they were expecting you, so I knew about your group. Some of them went into more detail than others, what you all have done for people on the island. Your… deeds certainly rang curious to me. Quite the anomaly, for those who claim to be pirates.”

“We’re only stealing back what wasn’t rightfully taken, and returning it,” Ann says. Then, a grin. “People should only worry about us if they’ve done something punishment worthy—which they totally did.”

Akechi stares. “Yes, well. What you say became clear over time, of course.” Akechi looks at Akira. “I truly thought you were just another band of pirates who had taken them by surprise, and were trying to steal me away, ruining my plan. I never put too much into measly pirate banter, so I didn’t put together at the time who you were.”

“Your plan?” Haru asks, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and leaning forward. 

“Yes.” Akechi nods. “That ship… I knew what I was doing, when I was getting caught. I wanted to find their leader.”

“ _Shido,_ ” Akira says, everything becoming just a bit clearer. “You wanted to find Shido, so you allowed yourself to be captured. That’s why?”

Akechi nods, but there’s something ice cold in his gaze at the mention of that name. “...Yes. Like you said before, they wouldn’t have had a chance at catching me... unless I allowed myself to be caught.” Now, a devious, somewhat annoyed smile stretches across his lips. An expression Akira hasn’t seen yet. “It was all going so well, and I was quite frankly very annoyed when you stole me away from what I’d set up. I would have found a way to get back on one of his vessels if you had let me go, but instead, you decided to nurse me back to health. That should have been another sign of who you were, but I hadn’t pieced it together at the time. I had an express ticket to Shido, and all I’d paid for it was a cut to the tail and being underfed for a while.” He sniffs, finished with his rant.

Akira blinks rapidly, a little taken aback by the long, well-worded response. He almost speaks like Haru—an etiquette with a calm tone and fancy phrasing, the only difference being Akechi seems to prattle on longer than Haru does. Which isn’t what he expected, considering their communication issue until now.

“Sorry?” Akira apologizes, mostly unsure. Then, he squints. “...Why do you want to find him?”

“That’s not important.” Akechi snaps, voice hard and more like a hiss this time. His eyes sharpen, nails digging into the tub, much more like his earlier self. _Feral._ “I don’t need to give you my reason, do I? I just want you to take me with you. I have my own business with that man.”

There’s a pause among the group, eyes meeting one another.

“...Well, if we’re letting you join us, the reason you’re after him would be something vital for us to know,” Futaba says, crouched near the floor, holding her legs tight to her chest as she looks at him. “You’d be joining us as a Phantom Thief, even if it’s just a temporary stay until you recover. And we don’t keep secrets. Not from each other.”

Akechi bites his lip and looks away, like he doesn’t know what to say to that. His tail curls against the tub side, rapping angrily against it with quiet slaps, simulating just how a human would tap their feet in annoyance. It makes him look rather anxious, and cuts the assumed facade that he’s trying to display to them. 

Whatever his reason is, Akira can tell it isn’t a good one—not one to bring up in front of this many people. _A room full of strangers, at that._

Akira shakes his head and pushes down his curiosity, despite their usual rule of sharing their intentions upon joining. Akechi is... a different case, and he’ll have to respect that. Maybe with time, he will share it. But not everyone is as keen on sharing their story; a bunch of teenagers pestering him for his reasoning would only drive him away, from the looks of it. 

There’s also the fact that Akira doesn’t like being very vocal about his own reasoning, either. He’d only told them later on, after they’d become closer and trusted him. So, he gets it. 

He closes his eyes and huffs out a breath. “...It doesn’t matter what the reason is,” he settles with, his word final, a declaration to his group.

“Akira!” Makoto scolds, turning those sharp eyes to him, clearly wanting to know the information as well.

He looks at her, and then Akechi, who looks a little less small. “It’s fine. We don’t need specifics, but…” He squints at Akechi.

_One thing._ There’s just one thing he needs to make sure of. “You didn’t want to find him to _join_ him or his cause, do you?”

Akechi’s posture seizes up, anger lit in those eyes. “Never. I _hate_ that man.”

Akira stares at him, watching him restrain the emotions he’s feeling and regain his calm demeanor. Akechi doesn’t reply further until he’s exhaled all the anger out with a quiet breeze of air, like it just didn’t happen.

And then he’s smiling again, trying to look confident—albeit with more uncertainty. “I have issues with him I’d like to settle before returning home. That’s all.”

Akira, for the first time, realizes this mission might take a little longer than Akechi’s recovery. The promise for him to stay only until healed—it doesn’t feel like the case anymore. Circumstances seem to change with every little bit revealed, and he’s… surprisingly ready to accept that Akechi might need them, and might want to stay longer than initially planned. Than Akira initially wanted to allow.

And who is he to turn Akechi away? Their purpose for forming this group was to help others, and their own teammates in the beginning.

Akira watches Akechi’s reaction and looks among his crewmates, meeting all their eyes before nodding towards Akechi. “That’s good enough, is it not?” 

Makoto and Haru look at him and then each other with unsure expressions, while Ryuji makes a face. Yusuke holds his chin, lost in thought. The first to shrug is Futaba. Ann relaxes again, too, a smile on her face. 

“Okay—that aside, how’d you _realize_ we were the Phantom Thieves, then? We never really stated it or anything. _Besides_ us acting friendlier than most pirates.”

Akechi looks at her. “Oh,” he breathes, like that much was obvious. “You all referred to each other in codenames, like they’d mentioned... Untraceable and off the map, they thought of you like ghosts. Also, a few had tried to take down Shido’s ship previously, and failed. I figured you had to be the enemy they were fearing so much, with strength like that.”

“That can’t be it, right? Or you would’ve put it together on the spot when we took you in,” Makoto asks, still somewhat accusatory. Akechi seems to ignore this, as usual.

“Well…” he says. “The legends say the Phantom Thieves operated almost like they were demons, despite looking like humans.” He looks at Akira, a glint in his eyes. “I didn’t consider it more than just stretched myth until you revealed yourself to me, which made me realize it might have been more than an exaggerated statement.” He grins. “If you had a merman on your side, you’d have all the magic you’d need. _While_ looking human. It’s a perfect fit, no?”

“Fair reasoning, I guess.” Akira reciprocates the grin. “I don’t use my powers, though. Not until you showed up, that is.” He pets the watchful Bakeneko at his side from head to tail, making Akechi look his way. He’s the only one on the team who can get away with that, after all. The action also drills in his next statement. “Morgana is the only one who isn’t human besides me. The team is just that powerful.”

Most of them sit up straighter, quietly proud. Even Makoto smiles and turns away, flattered. Ryuji knocks shoulders with him.

Akechi stares, expression dropped. “Oh?” he asks. “My mistake, then. But you are the Phantom Thieves... I am right, aren’t I?”

“That would be us,” he confirms with a nod. “And you still want to join, knowing Shido is our end goal to steal from?”

Akechi nods. “That’s exactly why.”

The room is silent, for a moment.

“I have a few conditions.” Akira holds up three fingers. “One—we all have to agree unanimously on our target, or else we don’t go for it. That won’t be much of a problem since we seem to have a similar target this time, I assume.” Akechi stares, but doesn’t say a word. A sign to continue.

“Two—We don’t kill. If that was on your list of things to do to Shido, we may not be your best option.”

A nod from Akechi, casual, like he’d expected something like this. “...And the third rule?” he asks.

“Don’t leave anyone behind.” Akira drills in, stern. “These are your new teammates—We don’t value treasure or these heists over our lives. It’s what’s kept us going this far, and it’s how we operate. We back out of a fight if it gets too much; there’s no shame in regrouping to make a new plan. Nobody is left behind; that includes yourself. So have some self-preservation, and don’t throw anyone under the bus for our end goal. _That’s_ the third rule. Do you have all that?”

“Those rules are fine by me.” Akechi nods after a moment of thought, holding his chin. “Is that all?”

He smiles, and leans back. “As long as you understand that we don’t disobey those rules for anything.”

Akechi nods, once. His eyes meet his like liquid fire, something determined and promising he’d seen in all of his teammates at one point when they’d come to a decision.

It makes it feel like the right choice to bring him with them.

Ann is the first to break the silence and rustle a hand through Akechi’s hair, startling him. 

“Welcome to the team!” she says, laughing like she was holding her breath. She never likes tense situations—it was surely a relief to see everything work out fine. Akechi looks at her, eyes wide, stance hesitant, if not tense. Then, he smiles back pleasantly. He responds with a courteous bow of the head, a quick fix of his hair, and a look at Akira.

“Thank you.” He says, eyes hitting all of them. “I won’t let you down.”

They definitely have more to talk about. Like what his position will be if he can’t leave the bathtub, and the fact he’s injured. He’s sure they’ll figure it out, but he, too, feels a hop of warm excitement in his chest when he nods back to Akechi, and seeing the rest of the team bicker and approve, getting closer—more certain about Akechi now.

Futaba gives him a thumbs up, while Ryuji cheers possibly too loud, as is his trademark when he gets excited. They all seem to verbally approve and welcome him. Even Makoto, who seemed hesitant at first, shares a small, friendlier nod at him. 

Akira clears his throat, grabbing the attention of all the rowdy crew. “Welcome to the team, Crow,” he says, with a very obvious grin.

Things were about to get very interesting.

~

“So—what are the basics I should know about this operation?” Akechi asks seriously, as Akira spreads a map across the floor, cross-legged across from the merman. It’s like a business meeting—a really unprofessional one, where a merman and a pirate go over their battle plan in the bathroom, on the floor and in a tub.

Akira points to Yongen. “We’re going here first, for a supply run before the next fight,” he says, sliding his finger over the smooth paper. “That’s our first order of business. We have to deliver some stolen goods—” He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a bag of old, rusted iron Shogi pieces, holding it up for Akechi to see, dumping them in his hand. “—like these here. We stole them back for Hifumi Togo, belongings of her late fathers’.”

“You got this from Shido’s ship?” Akechi asks, eyes trailing along the glimmering edges of metal, leaning in. 

“Nope. This is from a mission a while back, a much smaller target; we just couldn’t return it until we came across the island again. We have to stay organized with stuff like this.”

Akechi nods, looking contemplative. “I see… so, pardon my asking, but aren’t we going fairly leisurely with this whole thing, _especially_ if we have a deadline to do so by?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Akira puts the pieces back into the bag and jams the small pouch back into the sack on his hip. “Our whole operation could go wrong if we don’t have the proper amount of supplies or the right intel, so these pit stops are for just that. It keeps the morale up, too. We have to take our time, and need to check with the locals on any land we cross, blending in and getting information.”

“Alright,” Akechi says, sounding just a little disappointed. “So... we don’t know exactly where he is right now, then?”

Akira smiles. “Patience is important, Akechi. We’ll find him--we have a timeline for this, but there’s some leeway in here. We know his boats don’t ever leave this vicinity, anyway.” He circles a few islands. “These ones are far enough from the place in mainland he governs, so he keeps the boats rotated along these shores, stealing from those that won’t fight back and having the crimes go unheard.” Akira bites his tongue, trying not to be angry once again about Shido and his sick ways. “Don’t worry, Akechi, we’ll get this done on time.”

“And Shido can be brought to justice?” Akechi asks, looking longingly into the paper, eyes boring into the area Akira circled, as if he could take on the boats from a glare alone.

“We will. And get back all he stole from people. Any questions?”

Akechi hums. “I don’t have an issue with the plan itself, but rather, I’d like to know how the Phantom Thieves work,” he comments. “Most of what I’ve heard is rumour, so I’d like to clarify some things beforehand, if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay, shoot.” Akira nods, leaning back to the wall. 

It’s mostly battle based questions he asks. How they perform their heists, and what they do with the stolen jewels and items that can’t be returned. How they’ve infiltrated previous boats, and how long these missions usually last. Easy to answer questions he has no problem revealing to a new member.

Akechi hums at the information, looking at Akira in the dim firelight of sunset. They’ve been talking for hours, now. “...Alright, that’s all acceptable… but how should I partake in this? I don’t feel particularly comfortable just being along for the ride…”

Akira squints at him, thinking it over seriously while holding his chin. He knew this would come up sooner or later, but he still hadn’t thought all that much about a solution. 

After a moment, he says, “You could be quite the distraction.” He can’t resist making a comment, and bites his tongue.

Akechi blinks prettily, and a light pink crosses his cheek, suddenly taken out of the immersion of planning. “Pardon me?” he asks.

Akira smiles, his brain screaming for him to make an excuse up for that one. “If we’re in a jam on a heist, with your voice? It’ll make for the perfect getaway, magical and eerie just like you intended. The soldiers will wake up, thinking it to be nothing but a dream, the only proof we were there being a deep cut in their treasure. It’ll be mystical _and_ terrifying. Promise.” He tries to convince himself that’s all he meant with that comment.

“Please take this seriously.” Akechi deadpans.

“I am!” Akira laughs. “If we get caught up, you may not be able to run in with weapons and heavy artillery, but you still have your own advantages, as the rest of us do. I can’t use my voice much anymore in the ways you can, after all.” Not for the most part, at least. He could barely pull Ann out of a trance—how was he supposed to convince a boat full of sailors to sleep? He’d probably drown them by accident. 

Not to mention, he’d felt the pull of Akechi’s voice before—the vice-like grip of it. He’s strong. More so than him, definitely. The thieves had only gotten ahold of Akechi in the first place because they worked as a team.

Akechi sighs, and smiles in a sad way with a snort. “I guess you’re right. I just wish I could be of more help to you all.”

“Nonsense. You’re strong, that’ll be plenty of help. We all have a few jobs, but they pay off when used together. Don’t worry.” Akira waves this off. Then, a pause. “...Can I ask you a question in return, now?”

Akechi’s shoulders tighten, but he nods. “Go ahead.”

“Did you really think we wanted to sell you?” Akira asks. “Or _kill_ you, even?” 

Akechi’s posture stays unchanged, but he does look away from Akira, uncertainty leaking in by the looks of it. “...No,” he admits, after a moment of pondering. “I think it was because you were so accommodating and kind, I got fearful.” His brows furrow. “I’m pretty good at detecting lies and deceit. You didn’t seem like you were lying. I’m not used to kind treatment—especially from humans.” 

“You got paranoid?” Akira asks, bluntly, but softly. He was like that once, too.

Akechi glares, but his posture loosens.

“...A little. Rather, I was mostly angry you took me away from my goal, and then confused how I would go about escape. It all clicked together after you spoke to me underwater, though, and I realized you were a Phantom Thief as well as a siren. It scared me less, then. I thought I might be able to still go through with my plans on your ship, so I figured you might be the safer option, and my last chance.”

“And then you came back.” Akira smiles.

He nods. “And then I came back.” 

After a short moment, Akechi begins to speak again. “Actually,” he says, “I wanted to thank you. For letting me join… I know I asked only to stay until I’m healed, but it seems we might be spending a little more time together. I hope you don’t mind that I forced your hand like that.” He smiles. “I truly look forward to working with you all.”

Akira takes this all in, and snorts. “I think I knew when you were talking with everyone for the first time that we might be spending a little longer than that together.” He’s a little bit closer now, voice low. “Don’t feel bad. You have your reasons, correct?”

A nod from Akechi. 

“Then it’s okay by me. Until then, I guess.” He grins, and Akechi follows suit, encouraged by his own response.

He didn’t mind, in all honesty, the idea of spending more time with Akechi. It wasn’t really something he’d ever thought would happen--meeting another siren. Not so soon in his life, anyway. The chances were even more drastically lowered living on land. 

He knows what he agreed to, but it feels like every moment longer he spends with Akechi, it feels harder to say no to him. Harder to pretend he isn’t interested in Akechi’s claims to need more time on their boat.

He likes Akechi. Now, he thinks he’ll take Akechi’s presence for as long as he’s willing to be around them.

“I have one more question for you, if that’s okay.” Akira breaks the silence. “You’re quite fluent… Did you used to live on land too or something?” he asks. Akechi looks at him at that, maybe too fast.

“No,” he states. “I’m a very quick learner, though. I used to listen to people talk along docks. I thought it would be in my better interest to adapt in case I needed it.”

That sounds like a lie, but Akira nods slowly, taking it all in. Akechi sounds fluent like he’d been speaking conversationally for years, not that he gave off that impression at first. Was even that an act, or was he just truly opening up to Akira now?

He hopes it’s the latter. He also hopes to stop being paranoid as well. Akechi seems less like he has dark lies hiding underneath, but more like secrets he doesn’t want to share— not yet.

But the changes were bizarre. He still acts like a siren, with instincts and the certain behaviour of one. But before, he wouldn’t even speak. Now it’s casual conversation, and clearly he has a graceful way of speaking—not blunt, or choppy, most likely not just from _overhearing_ their language. 

But he can’t say that kind of thing for certain.

He sighs. No use worrying about it now; all things reveal themselves in due time. Akira is patient, if anything. “Okay, cool,” Akira replies. “Did you have all your questions answered, too?”

“One more,” Akechi says. “If this is the case… me working with you all to get to Shido…” He trails off, his mouth doing something cutely lopsided. “...Will I be getting paid for my work? Your friend, Takamaki—she had some lovely earrings. In fact, all your crew each had a small collection of gemstones on their persons.” He tilts his head. “It’s quite distracting. And though I never considered becoming a pirate for a line of work, I do happen to like treasure. I wouldn’t mind a few pieces to commemorate the occasion.”

Akira stares, and then laughs. He _knew_ there was something he liked about this guy. “Of course.” He nods. “We usually get quite the hoard after heists,” he taunts, enjoying the curl of Akechi’s fingers on the tub rim at the prospect of gems and gold. While he usually controlled the funds to get the right equipment for everyone, he has no qualms giving Akechi his share in jewels. He also saw the way Akechi looked at the shogi pieces, earlier. “Do you happen to have a _collection_ somewhere, Akechi?”

He teases this, knowing fully well that just like fish, sirens love things that shine brightly. He’d seen the way Akechi had stared at Ann earlier, at the dangling rubies from her ears. The fact that Akechi wants to make away with some of their earnings to add to a pile is something he can’t just let be. He’s probably just as bad when it comes to glittery things—attracted to them like he has a third eye for jewels— but he’ll tease Akechi where he can expose him. He’s not as bad as Morgana, but Akira will take what he can get.

Akechi looks away, slightly red, eyes lightening up defensively when he realizes he’s being teased. “As if it’s something to be ashamed about.” he begrudgingly admits.

Akira grins, honestly happy. It feels like he might already be getting closer with Akechi. “It’s not. I’ll keep it in mind, then,” Akira says, genuine. “You can even have first pick of our next hoard, if you’d like.”

Akechi has stars in his eyes at that. Akira bites his lip to refrain from smiling too much. 

He mentally notes to re-check the small storage of jewels below deck. If Akechi wants earrings like Ann’s… he could arrange that. Or maybe even something better, something original—just for him. He made such staple pieces for the rest of the Phantom Thieves, after all. 

It couldn’t be too early for a welcoming gift, right?

They part ways for the night soon after, But Akira’s got something else to check on, now.

~

Changing bandages is easier now. Less complicated, and more quiet. Much quicker too.

Akechi openly offers his tail to Akira, letting it sink gradually outside the tub, stretching it out so Akira can get ahold and properly clean it with Amrita balm and wraps.

“Thank you.” Akira sighs with a deadpan tone, still trying to get across the ‘eternally grateful’ vibe. “I can finally stop worrying about your tail rotting and falling off due to infection. I’ll get good sleep, for once.” 

Akechi makes a face and lifts his tail to smack him in the face, but Akira is faster, and holds it down with a laugh. He’s currently on a small wooden stool, Akechi’s tail across his lap, wet and slippery. He doesn’t mind all that much, and cleans quickly after he’s done with jokes, trying to make it as quick and painless as possible.

“Are you just going to watch me work?” Akira asks, not looking his way, but knowing well when he’s being stared at.

Akechi sinks lower, his tail slipping. “Well,” he proclaims, sounding annoyed. “It’s not like I’ve got much else to do here, do I?” He shows his empty hands just to prove his point.

“Yes, yes. I’ll find something to alleviate your boredom soon, promise.” He’s pretty sure he has some books, somewhere. Lost in thought, Akira stabs Akechi’s tail with his thumb.

“Ouch.” Akechi complains, arm darting out as if he could reach Akira’s hands to stop them. Akira ceases anyway, and looks over apologetically as he holds the towel on the freshly cleaned cut.

“Sorry,” Akira whispers. “I know this sucks. But it’ll heal better if i tend to it carefully from now on.”

Akechi sighs. “It’s ok. Keep going. Just be careful of your nails, they’re sharp.”

Akira almost comments on that, because _mine are sharp? Yeah, okay._ He keeps his mouth quiet, treating the wound. He works quickly, finding Akechi to be rather irritable about being cared for. He bandages Akechi up, not too tightly, but tapes the cloth perfectly in place before removing his hands.

Akechi observes his handiwork from his spot, clearly not in the mood to move his tail just yet. “Thank you for caring about this, despite me thinking it’s alright without it,” he comments. “It won’t bother me if this has a scar, though. Some things are worth the risk.”

It’s an eerie statement, said in an almost dead tone by the end. Akira tries not to linger on what could be so important to him. “Well,” he starts, ready to disagree. “I don’t think this was worth the risk.”

Akechi snorts. “I think you care too much. There’s worse fates than dealing with a small scar.”

And yes, Akira knows that all too well. He doesn’t want to comment, but from his own experiences, the least he’s had to deal with was a bit of roughing up around the scales. He still doesn’t like seeing Akechi with a wound like that, superficial at this point or not. He doesn’t like to see him uncaring about his own body for this cause, either.

Akira wonders for the nth time what the history is between Akechi and Shido—his reasoning for requiring their help at all. “Still…” Akira says, soft. Interrupting his own inner monologue, as he smooths his hand across some scales lightly, making Akechi’s tail shiver. “If I can prevent it, I will. I’ve had this happen, too.”

“With human legs, or your tail?” Akechi inquires, and Akira can feel those calm and calculated eyes burn his neck from staring. 

“...Both. But I know what’ll work on us, and what won’t, regardless of appearance.” The base genetics are the same in the end. They only have the appearance of humans, but their skin and bodies are fully fish, just disguised. They’re meant to blend in, after all. Sprouting legs doesn’t exactly warp their genetics into human ones. Some land medicine works on them—some does not.

Akira touches a hand along the edges of his scales once again. Akechi’s tail moves at the touch, but he doesn’t say a word just yet. Akira traces fingers across damaged fin, pale coral and thin like paper. Akechi finally says something, at this.

“You keep touching my tail. Is it that interesting?”

“I’m cleaning it, remember?” Akira defends, completely finished cleaning his tail. 

Akechi frowns at him; the look in itself a callout to his lie.

“Okay,” Akira admits. “I’m kind of interested. It’s—” _Excuses, excuses, excuses._ “—a very pretty shade. Mine was much darker.” Black, almost purple that shone red with sun. A strange silverish chrome just underneath, between the scales. Ann odd combination, but it worked, for a depth dweller like him. He stayed hidden quite well, at the time.

It’s almost a wonder, watching what compliments do to Akechi. He perks up like a flower towards sunlight, leaning forward, fins flickering outward like a fan at his words. 

“Oh?” he says, seemingly trying to remain cool. “If that’s all, then feel free to explore.”

“Don’t make it weird.” Akira cringes.

“ _You_ were the one touching so much.” Akechi point out lightly, laying back against the tub wall. 

Akira flushes at that, but his hand continues to trail. He spreads out the tips of the fin, looking at the scales there, the webbing in skin. 

His was nothing like this. He probably was very plain for a merman, thinking on it now. His fins were sharp and long, but less flexible and flowy like Akechi’s. Akira’s wasn’t like a shark in texture, per se, but he remembers it being stubbier and thicker compared to the goldfish-like fantail that Akechi harbours. 

Who knows, though—had he stayed with tail in adulthood, maybe his _would_ look similar. Although, he doesn’t want to dwell on an impossibility like that—the thought of ever going back to what he had is unsettling when he thinks about how lucky he is now.

The thought feels lonely and cold. He has too much here he’s not willing to part with.

The small bit of sunlight from late noon in the boat’s bathroom is directed on Akechi’s tail now, like a spotlight. The red, pinkish to crimson scales shine with gold there, and it’s much prettier than any real gemstone, if you ask him. He understands why pirates would hunt for this, want to display them like art, or as decoration in their home. 

That thought makes him angry, too, that Akechi was probably a gift to Shido. He wouldn’t let anybody get away with something like that.

“Akira,” Akechi says softly, catching his attention. He looks over.

Akechi’s eyes are on his, a light pink on his cheeks, and Akira realizes that he’s been feeling up Akechi’s tail like an absolute weirdo, fingers dancing and pressing on the scales and pulling fin apart much too long as he got lost in thought. He lifts his hands up as if he touched hot iron. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Got lost in thought.” _What else to say, here? Your tail is like gemstones? I mentally compared your looks to a decoration, sorry? I was admiring you but got lost in thought thinking about beating Shido to a pulp?_ “I… yeah.”

Akechi blinks rapidly. “It’s okay. I was just... unsure what you were doing.” He pulls his tail back into the tub and lathers the dry parts with salted water, and after a moment and a light cough to clear his throat, speaks again. “Do you miss it? The ocean.”

Akira thanks him quietly for moving past the awkward moment, and thinks back to being alone and lost after his parents were gone. Thinks of how he’d never been so scared—so out of his depth, before ending up on shore, the only thing he could find in a sea of blue, blue, blue. Futaba found him wailing inconsolably along shore, and brought Sojiro. He thinks how they’d gotten him situated in their household, and Futaba listened to his choppy story before telling him that she knew what it felt like to be alone and scared. She’d been lost in a supermarket before, after all. Six year old Akira appreciated the sympathetic response a lot.

He remembers getting legs after a while, willing himself to look like a human, wanting to fit in with the people who fed and clothed him. He _liked_ them, despite what mother had warned him of. But her teachings hadn’t really mattered at that point.

He remembers standing at the shoreline in goodbye when Futaba offered to take him back. Grabbing her hand when the waves rolled in, and breathing too forcefully, before pulling her home, vowing to stay with them. Sojiro had only shook his head with a hand on his hip, but ruffled Akira’s hair, letting him know it was ok before cooking them all dinner.

He remembers looking at the waves from then on, thinking on how foreign it all seemed, and pushing it behind him as he made a choice.

“No,” he says finally, with a small shake of the head. “I don’t miss it.” _Not really._

“That’s admirable, I guess,” Akechi says. “I couldn’t stay away, as of now. The ocean calls for me, pulling me in. Even sitting above surface for too long gives me tingles.” His mouth parts, and he smiles to Akira, lashes fluttery. “Ah, but this is a special situation, so I’ll endure.”

 _The ocean calls…?_ Maybe this is one of those lost-in-translation things. Before he has a chance to ask, Ann is knocking on the door frame, leaning against the wall with a weirdly knowing look.

“Were you planning on spending the day in here, together?” she teases, eyes mirthful and joking. “Let’s go to the deck. Makoto made lunch for all of us.” She turns to Akechi, who looks awkward, maybe not understanding her words as a joke. “And you—I have a huge bass with your name on it.”

...His questions can wait. Akechi too, looks interested in the thought of food. 

They’ll have plenty of time to talk about things like that, after all.

~

Akechi isn’t at all how he was before—mute, aggressive, and constantly hissing. The change happens fast among the Phantom Thieves. Rather than staring at him in curiosity and just watching him like a caged creature, they now spend time getting to know their new friend and teammate. Akechi doesn’t seem opposed to the attention, either.

Akechi apparently mentions offhandedly to Futaba that he doesn’t like hiding out in the bathtub all the time, which leads to Futaba getting creative with Yusuke, and finding a huge, old, tub-like frame they had in storage, transforming it into a small pool on deck and filling it with water.

“It’s so he gets some fresh air, duh,” Futaba says, waking a sleepy Akira from a nap so he can bring Akechi up to the deck for them and try out the new pool for size.

It’s just a bit larger than his own tub—wider, not deeper, so he can actually move more freely.

He wonders belatedly if Akechi _did_ just become their new entertainment rather than companion, as Akira settles down among the thieves with Akechi and his new pool, only to see them whip out different fruit and delicacies for Akechi to try, attempting to get him immersed in human culture—or so they say, between conversation.

Akechi is curious of them now, but open about it this time. In fact, he seems quite interested when Makoto and Haru offer him various types of fruit—apple, melon, peach. He tries them, pecking at the scraps curiously.

“It’s a little odd textured… but I like the sweetness,” Akechi says, seemingly lost in awe while nibbling at a peach slice. A weird click sound seems to permeate through the air, and Akira wonders if that’s some sort of merman equivalent to a content purr. If it is, he doesn’t know if he can make that noise. Regardless, he watches Akechi’s reactions with attentive eyes. Akechi continues, “We don’t have anything like this underwater.” 

There’s something like wonder in his eyes as he nibbles at it again delicately, the sticky juices running down his hands messily, almost like a child would pick at the snack.

“Well of course it’s dry—you’ve been eating fish your whole life. Underwater.” Futaba says, snorting.

“Not true,” he says through a mouthful of peach, “Not just fish. I ate shark, too. Clam, and also crabs.”

“Any lobsters?” Yusuke pipes up from the sidelines, considering.

Akechi shakes his head. “They aren’t to my tastes.”

“A pity.” Yusuke says, and the conversation goes back to the girls, thrusting food into Akechi's face.

“Try this—” Ann says, pushing a piece of strawberry cake toward Akechi on a plate. “It’s Jokers’ favorite!” 

“Hey,” Makoto butts in, sternly. “Don’t feed him all the sweets, okay? We aren’t docking in Yongen for a few days yet, plus all this rich food at once will probably give him a stomach ache…” She trails off, watching as Akechi grabs at the spongy dessert and takes a bite, eyes lighting up. Akira briefly wonders if he thought it would taste like a sea sponge. A smile threatens to pull at his lips, and he wants to shush Makoto. This is golden.

The awed look on Akechi’s face only gets more intense, with the added sugars of cake. He makes something close to a cooing, purring noise as he sinks into the water, hastily grabbing at more cake with wet hands.

“Oh, Joker doesn’t mind!” Ann says, jumping up to loop an arm through his, batting her lashes and leaning into his shoulder. “Right?” she cooes.

He snorts, and rolls his eyes. “It’s fine.” He could always buy another cake, after all. And watching Akechi's expressions is more fun; a priceless experience, if you will. Though he’d like to conceal that much—he can see why the girls are slightly infatuated with showing Akechi all these new things, now that they know he’s not a threat. 

They’d never seen a merman up close before—none with a tail, at least. Futaba was the only one to see Akira’s reactions to new, very human things—and that was when they were only five and six years old. Maybe it’s why she doesn’t seem as curious compared to the rest of them, but still into it enough to offer her own snacks, too.

“Stop sucking up, Ann! _Jeez,_ ” Ryuji says, leaning into the ship rails, a scowl tugging at his lips. 

“You’d do it too if you could get away with it, Ryuji!” she sings, sticking her tongue out and clinging. The girls snicker around her as Ryuji scoffs, mumbling something rudely. It goes without much worry, as the whole group knows they banter like siblings.

Akira shakes his head with a smile as well as she takes her arm back, taking the dishes they’d dirtied off to the kitchen. Futaba scrapes at dust on her knees and heads off back to the watchtower, out of snacks. Or maybe just out of fear of Makoto pestering her further?

When Akira looks to Akechi, his eyes are a little vacant, staring off. After Ann, maybe? A mixed look on his features, eyebrows drawn in, like he’s uncomfortable. Mouth tilted downward.

Akira crouches in front of him. “You feeling okay, Akechi?” he asks, and holds a hand out, an effort to feel his forehead. Akechi finally looks at him.

Despite the differences, there are some things merpeople and humans have much in common. Signs of sickness, to name a few. They can’t catch human ailments, but they sure show the same way.

Akechi swats his hand away, the frown dipping further. “I’m fine,” he says, sounding collected. “I think the… the _cake_ may have been too sweet after all.” He holds a hand to his stomach, delayed in action.

Akira’s not sure if he’s lying, but he does look under the weather. Or unhappy. He can’t really get a read on him just yet, but he’d like to know. But since he can’t ask, he plays along.

Akira quirks a brow. “Well, I can take you back to your room, if you like?”

“You mean _your_ room.”

Akira shrugs. “Your room, my room. Same difference at this point, yeah? You can be alone to collect your thoughts, since I need to work on something.” _Something for you, in fact._ “Will that help you feel better?”

Goro stares at him, a polite smile curling onto those lips. Sharp teeth poke just past his lips, like a cat, and he nods.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Akira opens his arms, and Akechi pushes himself upward to help Akira haul him to their room in the most that he can. Akira feels the cold water soak into his shirt front, and finds he doesn’t mind when it’s done in a complacent way like this. No more attempts at batting his eyes out, or interest in scratching his neck to fleshy slices. 

“...Sorry,” Akechi apologizes, as if realizing he’d soaked Akira’s outfit to his skin.

Akira smiles at him, and finds a weird warmth in the stone-cold hand that’s pressed against his chest, the other around his neck for safety. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m gonna be _ripped_ by the end of this month if we keep doing this.”

“You’re an odd one, Kurusu.” Akechi rolls his eyes. “But sure.”

~

Akira works at his desk for a few hours—at least, until the sun goes low on the sea—before he raps his knuckles on the bathroom door, hearing a splash and opening the door with a creak, only to see Akechi looking rustled, eyes blinking and hair resting unevenly against his face, like he’d just been lying down. Or, freshly awoken from a nap.

“Was the last few days a little wild for you?” Akira snorts, sitting along the tub’s edge, watching Akechi heave a deep sigh, dunking himself into the cold and salty bath before emerging, hair flattening across his face before he swoops it back, slick and wet against his head.

“I haven’t had to talk this much in years,” he defends, sounding tired, but a smile crosses his features. “The Phantom Thieves sure are a chatty bunch, huh?”

“Do you like them, at least?” he asks. “They’ll be your teammates, after all.” He sure hopes they all get along. He knows Akechi gets on fine with Ann and Futaba, maybe Yusuke—but things are still a little tense with Makoto, and maybe Ryuji, too.

“They’re fine.” Akechi sniffs. “...Futaba’s a little young for this kind of job, isn’t she?” 

Akira shrugs. “Tell her that and she might hit you. I tried to make her stay home, too.” But Futaba is out for revenge, and he isn’t about to hold her back from her goals. He’d be a hypocrite if he forced her off the boat. Still, it’s not his place to share that. He changes the subject. “You seemed like you liked her and Ann, back when you refused to talk to anyone else.”

Akechi tilts his head. “I guess so. For humans, they seem kind—I could feel that much, before. I think I relate to Futaba, from what she’d tell me, despite not replying.” Akechi sinks lower into the water. “...You all don’t seem much like pirates.”

“Didn’t talk to any friendly pirates before us?” He’s referring to Shido’s men.

Akechi glares. “I wasn’t too interested in talking to greedy thieves, believe it or not.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“I didn’t talk to you either, did you forget already?” He snorts. “But you have a weird way with others. I can see why people would be inspired by your tale,” Akechi says, in confidence. When Akira looks his way for some elaborative addition, he sniffs, and shrugs. “You don’t expel the same aura as some, believe it or not. Might have to do with you lot being for the people, and holding olive branches and all that.”

Akira stares, and finally shrugs. “We still steal. I handed in most of the trinkets and gems to my good friend Iwai for a few bags of cash. Most of the stuff this time isn’t traceable, so we can’t return it to their owners,” he fills in. 

“Yet, I don’t think you’re doing this for wealth, am I right?” Akechi smiles his way, and Akira sighs. 

“Caught me. But I have to wonder…” He trails off. “I don’t think you are either, despite your earlier call for payment.”

Akechi’s stare turns hard. “This again? It’s none of your business.” He grits his teeth. 

Ok, so not that.

“I’m sorry,” Akira says. “Can you really blame me for being curious about your goals and aspirations?” he jokes, attempting at a lighthearted interview. Crow doesn’t seem appeased.

“You said it didn't matter what I was here for,” Akechi snaps back, voice high and upset. Akira leans in, unafraid.

“...I just want to get to know you,” he appeases, quietly. “I meant what I said, though. You don’t have to tell me, if it’s that discreet.”

“Would you tell me your reason in exchange, then?” Akechi throws back at him, like a dare. “Futaba told me you had your own reason to face Shido, as well.” 

Akira frowns. _Ah, well…_ “I guess so.” It’s not that he’s against Akechi hearing it, but for some reason what was easy to tell the others feels hard to bring up in front of Akechi. He doesn’t think it’ll be held against him… but he bites his tongue regardless. “Another time, though.”

Akechi is smirking. “Got cold feet if it’s your own tale, huh?”

“A little. Just... not yet.” Akira leans into the chair, unbothered by the taunts. “I’m sorry I’ve bugged you about your side… Curious or not, I just wondered if you might not want to share it with a crowd, that’s all.” He shrugs. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener, and I can’t imagine you get to open up much in the big, quiet sea. If you ever want to talk to someone about anything, I’m always willing to listen.” he shrugs.

Akechi twirls in the tub, tail folding as he pushes himself seemingly closer to Akira, the tips of his fins sliding to the reverse side. His eyes are sharp still, but warmer now, and questioning. The slitted gills on his neck seem to open and close lightly as they stare at each other.

“...Maybe one day,” Akechi concedes, eyes soft but alluringly open and genuine. No false merman bravado or battering lashes to distract him, just an honest promise. Akira blinks at him, surprised.

“You change your mind kind of easily, you know...” Akira comments, a small smirk leaking through. Akechi shifts, tugging himself straight. 

“Well, you’re not what I expected. You keep proving that to me. You’re always so kind when I don’t expect it,” Akechi says, frowning.

“How so?”

Akechi pauses. “You keep giving me the benefit of the doubt and expressing kindness, even when my intentions aren’t clear. How do you feel so safe at night, sleeping across the bunker, when I tried to murder you once already? And yet, you reach out, and still act kind to me. Even though I gave you this.” He reaches a hand out and cuts into Akira’s personal space again, tracing fingers just over his neck. This time, Akira clamps his own hand down over top of Akechi’s cold one. Akechi’s eyes widen.

“You felt cornered. It’s not that odd to lash out when surrounded. You thought I was going to follow you, right?”

Akechi stares at his hand, yet not pulling away. “I did, yes. _No witnesses,_ and all that.”

Akira laughs, once. Of course. “Isn’t that pretty normal for our kind, regardless? I’m just surprised you didn’t try to make a snack out of me, too.”

Akechi finally huffs, and shakes his head. “You joke too much.” he frowns. “I am sorry.”

_Oops._

“You’ve already apologized, right? Don’t worry about it. You’re one of us, and we’ll watch out for you, as long as you’re with us. We’re a team now, you know?” He smiles, and Akechi makes a face in response, eyes wide and mouth just barely parted, looking cutely surprised. Akira slips his hand off of Akechi’s who blinks and pulls his own back, as Akira goes to stand.

“You should sleep, I think. We’ll have a long day tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure you said something about being tuckered out from all the shouting.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Akechi says neutrally, slipping back down into the tub, water splashing just over the ledge. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Akira smiles. “Goodnight, Akechi.” 

He closes the one door between them softly, with a smile. Then, he’s off to bed himself, feeling a lot lighter, and warmer than before.

~

Akira goes to sleep easy that night, after all the excitement. He might just be extra tired, or it might be the good mood. But the roll of waves against the ship, the creak and sway of the boat, and a light hum coming from his bathroom all add up to make him feel like he’s on a whimsical cloud, his worries sinking into the old mattress.

Wait a minute… Humming in the bathroom?

Akechi is singing.

He doesn’t know why, or what spurred it on, but there’s something about it. It doesn’t sound like a drawl full of woe or lost love; it sounds like a pleasant chant, bright and soothing, full of promise. Like he’s happy. 

He’d never heard a siren’s song before, other than the sound of his own hums. Maybe a hymn from his mother, ages ago. He’d remember something like that more than her face. Akechi’s singing on it’s own feels nostalgic, like he’s heard it before in a dream.

It’s like a lullaby.

With the song in his ears and the light rumble of Morgana, asleep and purring at his feet, his eyes sink closed, heavy, like he hasn’t slept in a while.

~

“You have a nice singing voice.” Akira says the next afternoon, leaning on the same rail that Akechi is perched on, tail hanging off as if he’s about to jump. Instead, it sways off the edge, glinting with the sunlight. A golden flame, only not burning to the touch.

Akechi’s head snaps toward him at these words, semi-dry hair whipping around with it. 

“You _heard_ me?” he asks, maybe just a bit startled. Or mortified, Akira’s not too sure. “I thought you were _tired._ ” And now, he’s pouting, it seems.

Akira looks his way. “Well, I _was_ dead tired, but it woke me up briefly. It was pretty.” He’s almost certain it had no mystical effects on him--he wasn’t a maiden ready to throw himself off a cliff just to hear more of it, he thinks—but at the same time it was quite the calming song to hear. Like a lullaby, of sorts.

A reddish pigment coats Akechi’s pale cheeks, highlighting the shining scales there. “Did you... understand any of it?”

Akira blinks. _Uhhh...Was I supposed to?_ “Not a word. It helped me sleep, though.” He shrugs. Best sleep he’s had in years.

Akechi slouches. “You really have become a boring human,” he grumbles, seemingly annoyed. He smacks his tail against the side of the boat, once, like a child stomping during a tantrum. 

“Sorry?” Akira apologizes, with a bit of a laugh. It’s not his fault the sea kind of sucked, and he wasn’t really speaking his second language too often—A lack of conversational partner kind of helped there.

“I can hear you fine underwater, if it counts? Or at least, I know the jist of it. Enough to reply, too. What was your song about?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Akechi sighs. 

“Well, _now_ I want to know.” Akira frowns.

“Relearn the language, then,” Akechi hisses, prompting him to drop the subject. He’s never been good at hints.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’ve been on land since I was six years old, and haven’t been back since.”

“Why is that?” Akechi asks. “Don’t tell me something sentimental again, like you couldn’t bear to part with your family.”

Akira smiles, ignoring that. “I thought we weren’t sharing tragic backstories yet?” he teases, but at Akechi’s glare, responds. “It’s the truth though. I didn’t have anyone in the wide, blue ocean.” _Nobody that I cared to see, anyway._

“But doesn’t it call to you?” Akechi asks. “Even now, being away for only several moons…. It feels like I go mindless when I stare at the sea, like it could come up to swallow me if I thought hard enough,” he says. “Like it wants to drag me back.”

Akira swallows. Grips the rail. He’s always been… a little too curious. Akechi mentioned the _call of the ocean_ before, as well. “That sounds pretty mean of the ocean,” he jokes lamely.

“Does it not for you?” Akechi asks, ignoring him.

“No, I…” He looks out to sea, unable to hold the contact, for a moment. “When I take the drugs—the ones my doctor friend gave me—I don’t feel any lingering emotion for it. I haven’t felt an urge to jump in, or be swallowed by it, or whatever.”

“Sad,” Akechi says, like it actually is, and Akira feels a weird pang of jealousy strike him. He doesn’t know why. Longing, possibly? Not for the ocean, but to see it the way Akechi does, maybe. Something emotional he doesn’t know how to swallow.

“I guess so.” He shrugs. “I’ve never known anything else, though.”

Akechi smiles. “Well, if you ever wanted to try again, I could always give you swimming lessons.”

“Ha ha.” Akira rolls his eyes, and bites his lip. He doesn’t like to think too far down that road. He has a job to to before he considers a future like that. He never wanted to go back. Not alone, but what if Akechi was with him? It’d be different, this time. “...I think I’m a little too old for swimming lessons,” he says, the words grating their way out.

He looks to the horizon suddenly, and _oh_.

“Akechi,” he says, excited and curling his hands on the rails around him, chin just over his shoulder. He points far off, where just a bump of dark land passes over the waters edge. “There’s Yongen. Right there, do you see it?”

“I’m not blind, Akira.” he tuts, and tenses in front of Akira’s chest, looking where their back and chest connect, seemingly unsure about proximity. “Will we be there tonight?”

“Probably morning, at this rate.” Akira snorts, and doesn’t move away. “That’s where me and Futaba grew up.”

“Splendid. A family reunion, too,” he says, sounding distant. Akira looks over to him, and wonders what that tone meant.

What happened to him? What had brought Akechi out of the ocean all this way—what did he want to approach Shido for? Akira made his rules very clear, and if they meet the guidelines, he’s not so sure what the merman could possibly want, if not to start a fight with the man. What is Akechi’s real goal? 

Is he like Akira? Why had he come above sea? Was it to face his problems head on, rather than running with the lengthy seven seas to hide in? Akira’s not sure, anymore. He’d like to know. But Akechi’s promise of _one day_ rings faintly in the front of his mind.

“Everyone will be excited to meet you,” Akira says, as if to distract himself. “They’ve only met me, before this.”

Akechi looks towards him, pulling away. When had he started leaning on Akira’s chest? “You’re introducing me to the other humans?”

“Relax. Why not?” Akira smiles. “They know what I am. It’s a small island—half of them had to teach me how to walk. It’s pretty tight knit.” He moves back, and sits down beside Akechi once again. “I just want you to meet Sojiro. And Tae—she can check that tail for us, and give us meds to patch it up quicker. Or stuff to help with the pain, if you like.”

“I think I can manage, Joker.”

“If you say so. But why suffer if you have the option? She’ll surely give you an exam, anyway. Doesn’t really trust my handiwork.”

Akechi grumbles something before an agreement, but is silent after that.

And now, they wait.

~

They dock early morning as he had claimed, while the sun is just peeking over the waves, hitting them in a golden-red light as they reach shore.

Futaba is off the second they made contact, jumping and restless, before getting Morgana to help her get to the docks faster than a rowboat could. With Shibuya, it’s a much more established island, with places to park a boat their size. Yongen is just a small island village, and barely counts as a place to visit on the map. But the quietness of it is it’s charm, really.

It’s perfect for hiding someone like Akechi out in the open. There are no glaring eyes, here. Nobody they’d have to keep Akechi from.

Akechi leans into the edge of the boat, seeming to lean into the faraway, crashing waves against the ship. Akira grabs his arm.

“Would you like to go for a swim, while the others get the people we’d like you to meet to come back here?” he asks, and is rewarded with a wide smile from Akechi.

“Would you join me?” Akechi asks, sounding hopeful.

Akira frowns. “I won’t be able to immediately. I can after I’m done, though. Will you be fine on your own?”

Akechi looks like he wants to dive in. If he’s upset by Akira’s rejection, he doesn’t show so. “Of course.”

Akira opens his arms. “I’ll help you down, then. And I’ll be back soon.”

Akechi looks at his hand, and smiles, little teeth poking just past his lips. “Alright,” he says, slipping those slender fingers into his, and allowing himself to be pulled up.

~

Leaving the ship to visit the small town in order to find Sojiro is their first order of business. Granted, he should be working on other things, like accessing their medicine, and leaving soon after. But they have to be here for a few days at least. Futaba misses Sojiro, and frankly, he does too. Akechi wouldn’t admit it with an ego like his, but he’d probably benefit from some exercise to his tail. Akira knows he misses it, the long spanning waves. The Phantom Thieves deserve a bit of a rest after the first ship being defeated.

They walk through the shambled, unchanged town. It’s like a wave of nostalgia every time, even though they visit every few months in between targets. The small, underpopulated town smells like fish and salt at all times, as they follow the gravel and unpathed skinny trails up to their house. People they know from around town call greetings and swift welcomes as they pass, before getting back to work. Futaba cheerily grins at them and waves their way with some calls, but Akira keeps the steady pace, Morgana on his shoulder purring and mumbling about food already.

Akira sighs at the familiar jingle of the door as he walks into Leblanc, a small bar with the best drinks on the island, as the owner has a favouritism for rich coffee more than alcohol. Sojiro offers a welcome without turning their way.

“Hey, Sojiro!” Futaba calls, causing him to turn and give the two of them a stretched grin. He moves his way around the tabletop, meeting her halfway at giving him a hug. She greets him with a loud cheer, clearly excited to be seeing him for the first time in a while as she squeezes him half to death.

“Oof,” he laughs, not even wincing from her loudness. It doesn’t seem to bother him, or any customers, considering there are none. Sojiro parts from Futaba’s embrace, and holds her by the shoulders, looking her over, and then behind her, vision trailing to Akira, now.

“You both returned in one piece. I’m glad.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “You two are gonna make me gray, at this rate.” He shakes his head with a tired sigh, but a grin stays present on his face. “Well. How’s life on the sea?” 

“It’s been amazing! So much happened, you won’t believe it!” she exclaims.

He laughs, and ruffles her hair. “I’m sure I won’t. Spare me the more worrisome details this time, please. You kids hungry?” They both nod.

“Me too!” Morgana says, jumping onto the table. Sojiro laughs, and agrees quietly, stalking past them to flip the shop sign to closed.

They escort themselves to a booth while he makes something for them to eat. Futaba’s already unloading treasure onto the table before Sojiro can properly sit down or place plates— showing him all the cool finds she made, underwater and on ships, in towns, excetera. There’s many pockets on her outfit, but even Akira is surprised at how much she pulls out from hiding. He doesn’t even remember retrieving half of that, or seeing her acquire any of it. Morgana walks across the table and bats at a shiny stone curiously, as they let Futaba share her version of the last few months with wild hand gestures.

Sojiro looks happy, and is laughing by the end of it. They eat their food slowly, with a lot of talking between.

It’s nice, being home. Akira’s shoulders relax as he eats away at the curry, Futaba and Sojiro making small talk between bites. Even Morgana gets chatty with Sojiro, adding to Futaba’s statements with more details she forgot to add in.

It’s a wave of nostalgia, and honestly? It’s one of the things he looks most forward to after they’re done their missions. He likes Sojiro, and their little shack of a place. It was nothing fancy or popular, but it was home, and he missed sitting at a table together like this, and sleeping in his own bed.

“You guys sound like you had quite the journey this time. I still hope you’re being careful.” Sojiro sends a pointed look Akira’s way. “This sounds like fun, but more and more dangerous as it goes on.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Futaba says. “But oh, don’t worry. Akira’s got this all handled.”

Sojiro nods. “He better,” he says, rough but with well-meaning. He then ruffles a hand through his hair, too. “Be cautious. Planning doesn’t always work out, so it’s better to stay on the safer side of things if you can.” Then, he lowers his voice. “...Things are progressing well with Shido, right?”

“So far, yes.” Akira nods. “We took down one of his ships already, and we’ve come to make a pit stop to get more information. Did anything important spread here in the time we were gone?”

“Hmm,” Sojiro hums, stroking his chin. “Nothing I can think of, no. The shop is quiet, as usual. I would check in with the fishermen by the south docks. They leave the island more than any of us, and gossip more, too.” Sojiro’s expression hardens. “Is there a reason you came to visit, other than that, restocking, and worrying me with your newest tales?”

“Weeeell,” Futaba starts, voice high and nervous. “Kind of?”

“Oh, great.” Sojiro closes his eyes, rubbing at them with his free hand. “What is it? Please don’t tell me somebody caught sight of you, after all this time. You _just_ said you were being careful.”

“We are!” Futaba protests. “This is uh, sort of good thing?” She looks to Akira for confirmation, who nods, a quiet prompt for her to tell him.

She looks to Sojiro, the words bursting out of her, full of excitement. “We found another merman! His name is Akechi, and he’s on the boat with the others right now. Or, well, swimming around beside the boat until we get back.”

Sojiro stares at her with wide eyes for a moment, then looks to Akra, as if to test him on whether she was lying. “She’s… She’s not kidding, is she?” And he genuinely looks shocked. He’d looked for years for Akira’s parents—for his sake, when he used to travel on boats. He knew as well as Akira did that it was quite the slim chance at coming across another, wanting to be found or not.

“It’s true,” Akira confirms. “He joined our fight, too. Something he has against Shido, though I don’t know much, yet.” Akira frowns. “He was captured by the first boat we took down. We rescued him, mostly against his volition.”

Sojiro leans in, eyes squinted. “He’s _spoken_ to you? How?” 

Akira pulls the fork out of his mouth. He’s long finished his curry by now. “He’s pretty fluent in Japanese. You should meet him.”

“He’s so cool!” Futaba pipes in, slapping her hands on the table. “He was really afraid at first, so we all didn’t get along super well, and then he left. But he came back, and he wants to join our fight! He’ got a red tail, and—”

“Slow down! What do you mean you didn’t get along? What even happened?” Sojiro cuts in, looking skeptical and confused. 

Futaba slouches. “Uh,” she replies smartly. “He was a little violent? I think he didn’t want to be saved.” She frowns, getting a bit quiet. “He’s pretty cool now, though—”

“Did he hurt you?” Sojiro asks, urgent. Futaba shakes her head, wildly, and looks to Akira, biting her lip. Sojiro follows her line of sight, and now it’s Akira’s turn to slouch, not meeting watchful eyes.

Sojiro glares waiting for him to fess up. Akira withers.

The phantom thieves may be talented, but they were all collectively horrible liars, and awful at acting.

Akira sighs, and pulls his shirt down, just a touch. Enough to see the well faded marks on his neck. 

Sojiro’s stare hardens, and he taps his fingers against the table. It’s the only sound in the room, and it’s what they listen to, waiting for what his reaction might be. Suddenly, he stands. “I’m going to meet him.” And then he’s grabbing a coat, leaving out the front door, while Futaba chases after and Akira sighs.

He knew it would come down to this. Despite not being a Sakura in name, Sojiro wouldn’t let anyone mess with his family. It’s best to be upfront, though. Sojiro will see for himself what kind of person (siren?) Akechi is, so he won’t make any opposing comments.

“Relax,” Futaba pats Akira’s back knowingly, voice quiet as they follow a trudging Sojiro. “He just cares about you. It’s gonna be fine.”

Akira sighs, and while he’s happy, also hopes Sojiro gives the guy a chance. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. _I still have to get Tae to meet him, too._ “Can you distract him for a while? I have to get someone else on board as well.”

Futaba salutes. “I will keep Sojiro from ripping Akechi’s head off.” She vows.

Akira sighs, grateful. “Please.”

~

He knocks lightly at Tae’s clinic. Well. Sort of clinic? The more witchy version, with less customers and more eerie feelings. There’s a thick and potent smell in the air, something like swamp water and soaked roses, strong and heady with just one whiff. Loose flowers and reeds hang by their stems upside down, pinned to the windows and strung to dry, hung like tassels. Paper with incomprehensible scribbles are scattered across most available surfaces, the shelves around him lined with miscellaneous tagged bottles with unknown substances.

Ah, he missed this. Even a nearby pot is filled with steam, questionable contents therein. He takes a deep breath of the room, the place where he spent so many hours of his childhood before Tae could fix him up.

“Oh, it’s you,” Tae says, reading off a chart without turning his way for more than a moment. “How’s the wide blue sea, guinea pig? Anything new?” It’s said so casually, most would mistake her for being cold.

He smiles. Despite her nonchalance, this is definitely one of her warmer welcomes. 

“I’ve been good.” He nods. “I’ve got a bag of sparkly jewels with your name on it. Shibuya is busy as ever. Oh, and I’ve been swimming more, too.”

She finally turns, blue hair swaying with the quick movement. “Really? That almost surprises me, considering your disdain for the sea,” she comments, sounding intrigued. Then, in a much more curious voice, asks, “Have you come for more of my trials as well, or just another dose of medicine?”

He smiles. “I’ll need some more of my medicine, along with some stuff for my crew... a few more containers of Amrita, Takemedic capsules, Cadenza, and some samarecarm pills.” He’s got half a bottle left of his own meds; they should last until this final job is done. “Throw in some relax gel too, if you could. Oh—and I’m not here for trials this time, sorry.”

He drops the bag of jewels across her desk while she’s still rummaging around, and the coins and jewels dump out unorderly. The sight of one of the red ones reminds him of his current project, one he’d have a bit of time for now, while others were busy mingling with Akechi, it seemed. She tsks, and hands him his supplies, wrapped up tidily in a bag.

Tae tilts her head, inquiring. “Swimming, and not interested in getting overkill supply of my tail-preventing drugs for once, yet overstocking on things you never buy... What on earth has happened to you? Are you alright?” She smiles, Still clearly curious, and just a touch concerned.

He snorts. “Nothing, yet.” He ignores the look she gives, and continues to place the haul safely in his bag, first and foremost. “Really. I’m fine. You might be interested in coming back with me to the ship, though.” 

“And why’s that? You know, I’m not too fond of the sea either, much like yourself.” She crosses her arms, leaning into her desk.

“The trip might be worth your while.” He catches her eye. “I may have a second study case for you.”

She looks at him, scanning him for a lie, eyes wide and interested as her arms loosen and drop once again. “....You didn’t.” Her eyes flutter quickly, and he can see the cogs turning in her head. “Are they... _alive?_ ” she asks, quiet and urgent. Surprised, at the very least. It’s a good look for the grumpy witch.

He nods. “We brought a merman taken from Shido’s bought on the ride here with us. I patched him up... but I hope you don’t mind giving him a more thorough checkup?” he offers.

“Say no more,” she says, stuffing some herbs, bottles, and questionable tools into her bag, leading him out the door. “How did you even manage that?” she asks, voice sounding just a little thrilled. “Take me to him.”

“I’m happy you’re so excited to correct my patch job,” he responds, deadpan. She bumps his shoulder good naturedly in return.

“You can’t say you found another one of your kind and expect me to not go a little mad. He’s got a tail, not legs—right?” she asks, calm as usual, but probably hopeful.

Akira walks in-step with her, towards the boat just upon the horizon. He thinks of Crow’s vibrant, fluttery tail, glimmering and like fanned out butterfly wings.

“Yeah,” he replies. “He’s pretty breathtaking.”

Tae raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t make a comment. He just shrugs.

No harm in being honest if Akechi himself and the crew aren’t here to tease him.

~

When he walks back to the beach where he left Akechi, he finds Futaba in the water, laughing wildly. Akechi is playing along, seemingly having a good time. Sojiro looks on the nervous side, but he seems to hover awkwardly from the shore, unsure. He’s not really sure if they talked about it or anything, but this is probably one of the better sights Sojiro could witness. Akechi isn’t bad, and he knows it. He sighs in relief.

Tae walks right by him, onto the sandy shore in those gaudy shoes of hers, right up to the waterline.

“Amazing,” she says, awed. She also captures both of their friends attention, as they stop what they’re up to and stare her way. She looks to Akira. “Could you get him for me?”

Akira nods, and waves them in. “Akechi,” he calls, “want to head in for the night? Tae wants to examine you.”

Akechi sinks lower into the water, shoulders tight. Futaba grabs his arm, and says something he can’t hear from shore.

Alright. Akechi wants to do this the harder way, then.

Akira runs into the upcoming waves, his pants getting soaked up to his waist as he trudges onward. The sun has gone up by this point, just the light blue hue of the sky as it transitions to afternoon.

When he gets out there, Akechi’s eyes haven’t trailed from Tae, at the shore.

“Hey,” Akira says. “What’s up? Something wrong?” he asks. Akechi finally looks to him, jaw deep and blowing bubbles now. He pulls his head above the water.

“That’s the witch?” he asks, judgement in his voice. Or, maybe just fear.

“Yep. She’s scary, but she won’t hurt you, trust me.”

“She’s not scary,” Futaba protests. “She did a reflex exercise on Akira’s human knees when he was six—that was the worst of it.” She rolls her eyes. It’s true though. Other than that, she’s only getting him to try a few experimental drugs now and again.

“And I’ve been terrified since,” he comments, haunted. Futaba frowns at him, ultimately disappointed.

“Will you be with me?” Akechi asks, hand grabbing at his sleeve, much too confident in being super close suddenly, as he tugs Akira down, further into the water, eyes searching.

“Uh,” Akira responds, a little dumbly, like his tongue has been cut. It’s like every other job flees from his mind, when he sees the sudden neediness Akechi is displaying—or just the touch on his arm, lingering and cold. He responds before he realizes what he’s saying. “Sure. If you’d like that.”

He hates how easy it’s suddenly become to respond to Akechi’s whims. He’d wanted to visit Hifumi, tonight. But the way Akechi is grinning at him, seemingly happy—and well, they still had a few days here. He’d make time for Hifumi. Akechi seems more important, at the moment.

Akira tugs him up into a proper carry.

He pretends Futaba’s not staring at him all the way back to the boat. He’s not sure if he _wants_ to know what she’s thinking, by the odd, calculating face she’s making, as her eyes bore into his spine all the way back to the boat.

~

He comes back to the deck with the full group being present, chatter and greetings floating through the air as he helps Akechi into the pool.

The tub is bigger there, so of course they’ll work in the open. He can only find himself thankful that the whole group is present here, instead of his tiny room. There was no space for everyone in there, and he really doesn’t want it to permeate with the clingy smell of antiseptic.

Futaba tries to soothe Akechi, who seems a little nervous about his agreement upon witnessing Takemi pull a needle, and other very sharp objects from her bag.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, kind. “Takemi won’t hurt you! She may look like the plague, but she always gives me sweets after a checkup.” She gives a thumbs up, and Akechi nods along, looking less agitated, despite still gripping the tub rim.

Akira coughs into his hand, slightly charmed. Akechi was willing to go through starvation and possible torture to see Shido, but tensed at the sight of a needle. Akira sits by them, and Akechi leans into his space as Tae turns to them, finally, and the checkup begins.

She doesn’t do much to Akechi in comparison to her trials with Akira. Which is probably for the best--Akira wasn’t so squeamish--only a little with needles, really. But Tae doesn’t use any needles. She puts away anything Akechi seems to stiffen up at the sight of, or at least calms him down surprisingly well with a few words until he lets her carry on.

Instead, she cleans his tail wound. She gathers a few loose scales from him, and gives him a regular, almost human checkup. Checking his eyes, heart rate, and breathing patterns. After, she studies his scales just a little longer, and cleans his wound slowly. He half expects that, really.

Then, she’s done, just like that.

“Akechi is quite the specimen, and giving me all these fresh results to compare to yours.” Tae grins. “I might be able to improve your medicine at this rate, for longer effects.” She’s packing her bag as she speaks.

“That’s good, I guess.” Less pill consumption, _yay._ “Is his tail fine?”

Tae nods. “Yup. It’s cleaner, now that I have the proper equipment. Regardless, I taught you well, Guinea Pig. You didn’t do half bad.”

He nods. “That’s good. Is—”

He almost gets another question out, but Ann, who had been off to the side and staring at the sea, suddenly yells.

“Shiho!” Ann cries out, waving with the largest grin on her face down below. Ahh, so that’s what she was doing on the sidelines. She waves for a moment longer, before passing them all and runs down to the docks.  
He smiles at the scene, and Takemi takes this moment to excuse herself.

“I’ll fix up your medicine, Guinea Pig. You’ll be here for a few days, yes?”

Akira nods, and she walks down the creaky boards, heels clacking. “I’ll see you tomorrow or the next day, then. Goodnight, you kids,” she says fondly, waving to them before heading out.

Sojiro stands as well with a stretch. “I’m going to go visit with Futaba. It was nice meeting you, Akechi.” And Akechi nods to him, Sojiro leaving with a faint grin.

Akira huffs a sigh of relief. He should have known--the second Sojiro met Akechi, he probably became abundantly less scary, especially with manners like his--plus the fact that Futaba trusts him. There’s also the fact that Sojiro seems to adopt all his friends on sight, so Akira shouldn’t have thought Akechi would be any different.

After a quick wave to Sojiro himself, he joins Akechi, who is looking over the rails at the scene before them: Ann running wildly across the beach to a parked fishing boat that is currently being unloaded.

“Who’s Shiho?” Akechi asks him now, head tilted.

“Ann’s best friend—and girlfriend.” Akira smiles, as he watches said girl donned in muddied fishing gear pull Ann close as they met in an embrace. Ann twirls her for good measure, and he can see them laugh with red faces before sharing a quick kiss.

They hadn’t seen each other in months. Shiho had fled to the safety of Yongen for a while as the problems with Kamoshida died down in Shibuya, or just to not be discovered again by him, if he came back. So far, she is just working here temporarily. But it seems they chose to visit at a perfect time.

Akechi turns to him sharply, and raises an eyebrow.

“Girlfriend? Her?” he sounds confused, eyes squinted at Akira. “I thought… I thought Ann was your mate.” 

Akira would have spit his drink out, if he had one. Instead, he chokes on a breath of air and the saliva in his mouth, looking at Akechi with widened eyes until he recovers. “Uh,” he says, quite confidently. “No.”

Ann is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. There’s no doubt about her fiery personality either; she’s the best. Could absolutely grind anyone’s heart into dust and they’d thank her for it-- but the two of them… just aren’t very into each other that way. That’s all there was to that.

Akechi’s brows furrow upon hearing this information, eyes still slitted in uncertainty. “Then… Makoto?”

Akira really doesn’t want to be talking about this. He tosses his hands up. “No—I don’t have a girlfriend—or a mate, or whatever.”

“...You don’t?” He looks confused, like he’s come across something quite stumping.

“ _No,_ ” he drills in, surprised. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

Akechi frowns, like he’s come across a problem he doesn’t know what to make of. “You’re very... touchy. With them, I just assumed…” Akechi looks him over, slowly, with a new clarity. His mouth is twisting in an odd way, but it seems to straighten itself out, as Akechi laughs, suddenly. “Huh. Sorry, I’m just surprised.”

What does that mean? He feels the need to defend himself further. “We are close—all of us, but not like that. I mean, Futaba and Yusuke kind of have an odd flirty thing going on, and Haru likes Makoto, but that’s uh.” Someone, shut him up now. This is the most he’s told someone in a while. 

“I believe you, don’t worry.” Akechi says, staring back out to Ann, with a secretive look on his face. His lips are quirked up, and his eyes look pretty mirthful. It’s something new to see, but Akira’s still _very,_ very confused, so he can’t properly appreciate it.

He’s not so ready to let this go yet. “...So, you wanted to get with Ann, I’m guessing?” That would make a lot of things become clearer. The stares, the friendliness…

“What? No.” Akechi says, nose wrinkling as he shakes his head quickly. “Why would you think that?”

Why wouldn’t he guess that, is the bigger question. He’s pretty sure he’s not crazy, but he’ll drop it if Akechi doesn’t like the topic. Akechi is weird. Maybe he just wants to know these odd, invasive personal questions now that they were getting along. “You looked at her a lot, before,” he tosses out, mostly feeling awkward about it.

Akechi’s brows furrow once again. “I wasn’t looking at her, I—” He clamps his mouth shut, cutting himself off. “Nevermind. Forget it,” he says, grouchy.

Akira raises a brow. “Sorry. I was wrong, I guess.” And, because he’s horribly curious, he asks, “Did you have one, then? Back home?”

“A mate?” Akechi asks, skeptical.

“Yeah, sure.”

Akechi shakes his head. “No, nothing of the sort. I, um. I’ve been preoccupied with my own life, currently. I didn’t have time for that, then or now.”

But even that sounds like an excuse. Akira stares. 

“I see,” he says, and they go back to silence.

They’re silent for only a few moment with each other, watching the sweet scene between Ann and Shiho unfold before they lock swaying hands and disappear just above the beach into the streets, throwing a wave up their way before completely disappearing. Akira smiles, and throws a small wave back their way, letting it linger until his hand sinks back to his other one folded into the rail.

“Oh, right.” Akira says, leaning to his bag to pull something out. “Remember what you said about Ann’s earrings?” 

Akechi stares, looking away from the two girls below, and eyes locked on his hands, and his bag. “Yes,” he agrees. “I do.”

“Cool, well—I didn’t make you those, but I did make you something else. I thought it would be nice for you to have something special. Unique-- just for you.” he says, and pulls out a long necklace from the side pocket of his bag, a long silver chain with a glowing red ruby dangling at the end, decent sized and secured carefully by curled wires. Akechi’s eyes light up, and he reaches out as Akira does.

He’s looking between Akira and the necklace as he talks, almost babbling. “It’s so pretty… You didn’t have to make this—how did you even—”

“I told you, right? I’m pretty proficient at these kind of things,” he boasts, grinning. Akechi’s grin is softer, more appreciative, than he thought. It’s more than a little charming.

It’s becoming clear to him, how people could fall for sirens so easily. Drown themselves for them, just to get closer.

Akechi’s eyes flicker up to his, pretty and wide; excited. “So you keep telling me. Was this too much trouble to make…?” he asks, sounding a bit uncertain.

“Not at all.” He waves it off. He’s spent the last few nights on it, just to get it right. “I told you, you’re part of the team now. Think of it as a welcoming gift. A memento.”

Akechi clutches it, eyes sparkling in reflection. “I’ll treasure it.”

Akira nods.

They’re all alone on deck now, and he has no idea when that happened. Ryuji is probably taking advantage of the long beach for a run. Maybe Morgana’s exploring. Haru and Makoto are probably somewhere on deck, inevitably together, and Yusuke is… painting? Probably painting.

He enjoys the silence for just a while, breathing in the fishy, port smell of Yongen. It’s awful, but he missed this. Akechi, who usually seems like the silence-loving type, clears his throat, hands still wrapped around the ruby at his neck—eyes still stuck there, too.

“About that swim…”

Akira peers down at Akechi with a sigh. It’s not like he’s really mad, though. The sun was just beginning to make it’s way down. He’s got nothing better he’d like to do right now. “Didn’t forget about that, huh?”

Akechi smiles, teeth showing. “We made a deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Akira reaches his arms out. “Let’s go, okay?”

He has a lot on his mind. Stuff pertaining to the case, need for gathering intel, and about Akechi himself. But he supposes these worries can wait for just a while—he’s starting to understand Akechi just a little better. Or, it feels like he is. 

For now, he indulges in this. He’s the one who suggested a quick break to keep up the morale, after all. And he’d like to use this chance to get to know Akechi better.

It’s so strange. The siren’s words don’t affect him in the way they’re supposed to, but he finds he’s starting to bend to Akechi’s every whim.

He has a few ideas what that could mean—the feeling he gets when he sees Akechi smile is dangerous, but certainly not as if his mind and heart being warped by magic. But he imagines it might be something like this, if he was a human being lured in. 

That, in itself, could pose a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I have been quite busy lately, but mostly the slowness of this release is because I had to rearrange the chapter about five times and deleted a few thousand words worth of scenes/interactions... The next chapter should be out much faster! 
> 
> Also. B) did u guys notice??? It went from 2 to 4 chapters in one go because I'm very bad at just picking a number and sticking with it loooool,. so ,, hope u guys enjoy that to come oof.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. If you had thoughts on it, I'd love to read them! Kudos and comments totally make my day <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry the update was so slow. This chapter was easy to complete for the first half, and then I totally stumbled and drag myself through the second half... and then I just put the rest off for a while lol
> 
> But anyway! This chapter is 15k+ words, so I hope that at least makes up for my silence! I don't know when I'm updating again, since I have a lot of deadlines for zines, inktober, and comms to work on, but next chapter is going to be a fun one that I pretty much have been waiting to write since the beginning! 
> 
> All that said, Please enjoy! I'd love to know your thoughts on this one <3

The water is cold and swirling against his thighs as the lowering summer sun warms Akira’s back. It’s nothing like the first time he went swimming with Akechi—being dragged underwater in the middle of night, a panic of chase paired along with losing sight almost too easily of Akechi the deeper he went.

Instead, Akechi shines like fire among the waves, captivating and almost glaring to look at as he launches himself out of Akira’s arms and into the sea once again, tail flickering with that golden sun, scattering beads of water everywhere. He breaks the surface with a marvellous grin, coming back to meet Akira halfway, smile rejuvenated as he holds a hand out, aims for holding Akira’s hands, he thinks, pulling him deeper into the vast blue. 

It’s such a pleasant scene now—frolicking in warm sun-tinted waters instead of cold black sea, dark and swirling as Akechi tries to leave him in the midst of it. Akechi is so open and kind with him, now. The contrast is so stark from back then, and Akechi looks so genuinely pleased—Akira can’t help but smile along.

“Missed this, did you?” he asks, and Akechi laughs just a bit breathlessly, hair dark and long and in his face—pasted to pale, pale skin again like a wet sheet of golden brown. He pushes it out of his eyes as he comes closer to Akira, a bright glimmer in his eyes and on the scales of his cheeks.

“You have _no_ idea,” Akechi says breezily. “It’s like being rewarded with an oasis in the midst of dry land, instead of a cold, few drops everyday.”

A deep pang of guilt rings through his chest. “I’m sorry,” Akira apologizes, walking deeper into the water. It’s up to his chest now. “I’ll find more downtime for you like this. It’s unfair you’ve been cooped up,” he says softly, another promise. He knows Akechi needs it more than he does.

While Akira’s skin itches, feels like it absorbs the water like a half-dried and starved sponge, he knows Akechi yearns for it—needs, and is called by it. He doesn’t have the freedom like Akira does to make up for the uncomfort of land, either. 

Akira is capable of ignoring the urges to swim the farther away he gets, but for Akechi, a tail is as good as pair of cuffs on their ship. He probably can’t think about anything _but_ returning to the sea.

“It’s okay,” he says, genuine and smooth. “I did come out here earlier, don’t you remember? It’s fine; we have work to do.” Akechi dismisses it with a wave, floating outwardly to sea with on his back, gliding smoothly away as his tail fin glides like a feather against Akira’s thigh, propelling him away. “We can do stuff like this when we’re not in a rush.”

“You mean like... between heists or… afterward?” He blinks. He’s almost surprised - he was so sure Akechi would part the moment they finished this. They’re business partners, after all. Even if Akira likes the idea of seeing him again, he was so sure Akechi would be gone the moment they settled this problem with Shido. Akechi is a little different from the other Phantom Thieves, heart promised to the sea before anything else. Would he stay? Or even have a reason? Akira hadn’t imagined it.

“Ah,” Akechi frowns, stops swimming, looking towards him with something unreadable on his face. “...Maybe.” He bites his lip, clearly not going to continue that thought. It seems like he almost surprises himself with the answer—or maybe has second thoughts about speaking too freely. 

He dives in without another word, leaving Akira hanging.

Akechi doesn’t leave him by himself for long, though. He doesn’t simply resurface, either, leaving Akira just the slightest bit wary in the now concealing dark water swirling around his chest—but he soon feels the edge of a silky tainfin grace across his leg, barely sweeping by, and lets out a silent exhale. 

Something else dances along his hand underwater. It’s too hard to be kelp or another fin, and he smiles, confidently feeling along the smooth planes of that—yep—porcelain cold hand until he finds fingers, and grins when they coil along his and squeeze back. With that, Akechi tugs him down and outward into the vast blue, hinting at what he wants like a silent invite. Come join me? 

Akira shakes his head, and catches his breath. He finds himself going along with Akechi’s slightly cryptic antics easily, not needing more than a gentle tug for convincing.

It’s been harder to get him in the ocean than Morgana into a bath, but he finds himself trusting Akechi, for some reason. His heart is pounding in his ears as he gets swallowed by the waves—he hasn’t been out like this on his own volition in years, but it strangely feels like there will be some dire consequence if he is to turn away now. Perhaps only a disappointed Akechi, but… still.

He’s pretty sure this is how sailors die—lured into the depths by playful notions such as this, teasing and kind, like a game of sorts. 

With that thought, he ducks under, all too easily adjusting and meeting Akechi’s eyes, hands still intertwined.

But he’s at least half-certain Akechi’s not interested in cannibalising his own, and that’s enough for him not to deny the man. He moves forward into the cold waters washing against his skin, and dives his head as Akechi beckons him in with no more than a soft grip on the wrist.

Akechi looks a bit nervously back to him when he opens his eyes underneath the waves, spots of sunlight dancing across the canvas of his skin and on the top of his head, making it look lighter. His eyes shine deeper red with the sun, too. It almost matches the necklace, now.

_“You can hear me like this… Right?”_ Akechi asks, eyes flickering, holding Akira’s hand close.

He floats closer to Akechi, nodding. His feet barely skim the sea floor. _“Yeah. Forgive me if I don’t speak perfectly.”_ Or _much_ too formally. He knows that his speaking is choppy. Now he knows how Akechi feels above water.

Akechi giggles; that high, dolphin-like and bubbly noise again. _“You have an accent!”_ he says, amused. Akira’s heart rate picks up.

Akira smiles. “As did you, before. Help me practice?”

And despite his earlier snarkiness, Akechi does. He nods, and pulls him out more like a guide, as if Akira isn’t capable of swimming on his own. His feet don’t touch the ground at all now, and fish swim by them, unbothered by their presence. He forgot about this part of it all, the serenity of it.

It’s been so long.

They talk as they swim on deeper, and while Akira doesn’t catch the entirety of what Akechi is saying, he thinks he catches most of the important parts. Akira repeats phrases Akechi wants, and they go through it together, all while swimming. If Akira has trouble, he sounds it out, or talks slower, or makes motions, if he can, to communicate his point.

And Akechi—Akechi hasn’t stopped smiling the whole time.

It’s cute.

They’re down there for a while. He doesn’t need air—not so much. It feels like a mixture of relief, using the thin gills on his neck he’d once thought were sealed. Breathing so consistently under the waves all of a sudden feels comparable to pushing through a closed off piercing in skin. It’s half relieving after the fact, but also slightly uncomfortable, definitely different from what he’s used to—an odd nostalgia at best, something he wanted to forget at worst.

He finds he doesn’t mind it all that much, for once. Maybe because he isn’t alone down here.

Akechi does this almost… dance, with him, swirling around him before leading him to other things, and keeps touching him, fingers trailing lightly at his wrist to lead him his way, or a quick move of a tail, soft like silk against the naked part of his calf. The fan of Akechi’s tail tickles at bare feet, but Akira doesn’t pull back. No, he’s far too intrigued for that.

He’d be choking on water if he was human right now, with all he sharp, quiet inhales he takes. 

Akechi circles him. Except, instead of feeling like an approaching shark—cornering and unnerving—he feels Akechi’s eyes burn into him when he’s not looking. When Akira looks his way, he smiles and floats away, aloof suddenly. It’s nice to see him so sprightly, for once.

It almost feels… flirtatious.

But the butterflies of nerves mix with familiar anxious nausea. They’re crawling along the ocean floor, not too far out just yet, but just enough for it to feel dark, suddenly; the reeds seem to tangle just overhead. 

He needs air, and signals so. 

When they get back up to the surface, he takes a deep breath, and a laugh escapes him. Akechi tilts his head, in need of clarification what was funny, seemingly. Akira waves a hand his way.

“I haven’t done this in so long.” he says, deciding to keep the conversation natural, and not address whatever was just happening under the waves, or his own mini-crises. Did Akechi always act like that around him, or was it just the high of being back in the ocean getting to his head? Was Akechi this...touchy with him, before?

“Which part?”

Akira laughs, loudly. “Swimming in general. I’ve had the time, I just…” His lips form a line. “Haven’t wanted to, really. I haven’t spoken underwater, or spent more than ten minutes in it at a time since I was six. Unless I had to, of course. Or it wasn’t on purpose.”

Akechi comes closer. “Do you hate it so far?” he asks. His lashes are clumped together once again, eyes bright and inquiring. Akira can’t seem to look away.

_It doesn’t feel as much like drowning somehow, with you._ “Not so much right now. Getting me to do this a while ago would have been like throwing Morgana into a bath, though.” Or even going this deep. It’s the farthest he’s been outside a boat in years.

Akechi snorts. “Well,” he says soothingly. “If it makes you that nervous, we could just always swim together, if you like?” 

Akira laughs. What does that mean? Akechi is so close, and keeps suggesting ideas with that saccharine-sweet voice of his, like he really is trying to lure in prey. 

“You just want more off-time, don’t you?” he says, trying to convince his lungs to breathe properly above sea level, too.

“Caught me.” Akechi winks, before diving back under. He follows.

They spend a bit more time in the water, frolicking until the sun is split half way into the sea. It’s a total, complete waste of the rest of the day. They’re on a timeline, but he hasn’t even done more than pester Takemi for medicine, and they only have possibly two days more until they have to head out.

But he’s confident they’ll get everything done on time.

They’re laughing themselves silly when Futaba finds them; it’s something stupid, a joke he made about a crab, and it ran off from there until they were laughing for no reason. He doesn’t know how to explain it to Futaba, so he waves it off, and they head in for the night. 

For some reason, Akechi would rather go in with them to the ship for the night, despite being so clearly happy in the ocean. He says so with a grin, arms reaching out to be picked up, that it’s probably safer. Futaba snorts, not sounding convinced, but Akira finds the logic sound enough.

Akira notes the way she looks at him as he takes Akechi back—curious, but brows drawn in, thinking hard—he doesn’t know what it meant, but he’ll have to ask her another time, when he’s not busy carrying a merman.

~

Akechi sings again that night. It’s quieter, but the hum of it echoes through the cabin, reverberating through the very walls like a whisper, urging him to sleep.

He wants to stay awake, but the sound is all too tempting to drown out the world to. It only sounds slightly different, still cheery, but there’s something else there. Something he’s too tired to pinpoint, brain fogged by magic and eyes tugged down by weights of steel. The rush of ocean water hits his mind in the sweetest of ways, making everything else around him feel quieted.

It isn’t a bad feeling, though. He feels nice. Peaceful.

Akechi is strong indeed—for his charming voice to have floundered a merman itself, making him feel like his brain was being smothered.

Maybe Akira should be asking him for tips on that refuting that instead of on _speaking_ underwater.

For now, he drifts, to the sound of a siren’s quiet lullaby.

~

“Why are we up this early?!” Morgana yowls into his ear, yawning as he pulls himself properly onto Akira’s shoulder and steadily ignores Akira’s wincing.

The streets are mostly dead, just a worker every now and then walking by and nodding or greeting him quickly in passing, mostly welcoming him back in town and asking how long he’d be here, as he was recognized on this island.

He _lived_ here for just over ten years, after all.

Not much has changed in his months away, either. It’s a town that wakes up much too early for his tastes, always busy hauling loads from shore to the main core of their town— whether it be fish or supplies bought from other, bigger places. Broken cobblestone walkways and dirt paths string along in all directions, the more used paths with dirtier and worn bricks. It isn’t put-together like the mainland, with cemented or evened gravel roads like that of the city, wagons and horses constantly on the move—but he almost prefers these uneven trails. It’s where he grew up, at least, so he’s sure that only makes him biased.

He realizes in his sleepy nostalgic wandering that he still hasn’t answered Morgana.

“We’re visiting Hifumi, today,” he declares, shaking the fabric pouch to be delivered around in one hand. The shogi pieces could be heard, clanking around inside. Morgana mews happily and snatches the bag out of his hands with his teeth. Akira rolls his eyes.

“Haha! The gold ones, right?” he says, voice excited and much more awake, blurred with the fabric in his mouth as he tries to nose into the bag snout first. Akira snorts.

“Try not to lose the pieces, alright? We worked hard for those.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Morgana snickers. “But why so early? Couldn’t you do this later?”

Akira looks away. “I could, but I thought it would be best to get it out of the way now.”

“ _Becauusee?_ ” Morgana inquires, snooping closer, trying to position himself on Akira’s shoulder to see his eyes.

“Because,” Akira shakes his shoulder, making Morgana mewl and go back to his position of sitting, “the quicker we get priorities done, the more we can relax for the stop until we set out again.” Is what he _says._

_Because if not now, Akechi might drag me into hanging out with him the whole day again, and I’d all too easily give in without getting important things done,_ is the actual reason.

“Fine with me!” Morgana says, and Akira sighs a small breath of relief. They’re outside Hifumi’s house at this point, and he comes to a stop.

Her house is a temporary one—a living situation he had arranged with some old folk renting the place out to tourists with some sugar-coated words and a bag full of glistening jewels, enough to easily convince them and cover for more than a few months of rent.

He knocks at the door, and within a few moments, he hears her quiet feet shuffle behind the wall, before it opens. 

She looks out in only a peak of space, until she sees it’s him and practically throws the door open, her grin stretching.

“You’re here!” she says, voice quietly delighted as usual. She comes forward to hug him, wary of Morgana who seemed to shuffle himself onto the ground in annoyance, and with a small laugh, escorts him into the house.

“I’m glad you made it back. It’s been a while.” She hums, showing him to the main living space, small but comfortable with a table in the center of it all, pillows arranged on the floor. He takes a seat where she addresses, and Morgana makes himself comfortable as well. 

“Didn’t think I was coming back, huh?” Akira laughs, a brow raised, and for a moment, she looks mortified.

“No, of course not! —I mean…” She catches herself, cheeks pink. “I _did_ think you were, I just… I worried. I’m glad to see you after so long,” she stutters out, looking a little worried at the end.

“I’m joking, Hifumi.” He smiles at her. “I’m glad to be back, even if it’s short. Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course you were joking,” she comments, lightly exhaling with a grin. “I’ll make that tea, if you’d like?”

He nods, and they part for a few minutes. He takes this time to absorb his surroundings.

It’s a humble little house, but he knows that already. He picked it, after all— but she seems to have made the best of the temporary situation, little pieces of her personality finally starting to shine through the space. The empty shelves from his first visit are now lined with games and books of sorts, delicately arranged but stuffed full all the same. The pillows he’d bought for her are starting to look worn. Maybe she had made friends, here?

“Here,” she says, passing a cup down to him, and then a small saucer of fish for Morgana, who lights up in approval. She places the kettle in the center of the table and takes a seat for herself.

“So,” she starts. And then, a little quieter. “Did you find any trace of those bandits?”

He inhales.

It’s a hard topic he knows they have to breach—the only reason she’s here on Yongen in the first place, making a getaway on a remote island is because her home on the small island of Kanda was trashed by Bandits, leaving Hifumi practically alone in the midst of the raid she had barely escaped, contacting the Phantom Thieves as a last resort to reclaim the stolen items and get them to safety.

She lived alone at the time, managing the small farmhouse her parents owned while they were on the mainland, getting proper care for her fathers’ declining health. Hifumi was lucky that she’d even made it out of that mess alive with only a few stolen heirlooms, considering the circumstances. It was a surprise to meet such a hardy girl who had survived on her own in the meantime. She wasn’t as concerned with the place she grew up, but rather getting back a small few trinkets that were dear to her.

They brought her to Yongen in the case the bandits returned while they left to steal her belongings back, and Akira easily paid the price to get her in a safe place to hide in for the time being.

In all honesty, they would have easily accepted her as an honorary member if that’s something she would have wanted—she’s strong and smart, an amazing tactician and an ideal teacher for strategy and movement. The way he got her to open up to him after her scare was by playing shogi, which she won at practically every time.

She sits across from him now, still nervously waiting for his reply.

He hums. “We found the bandits,” he says in the thick silence. “... _But_ , they had stolen a lot of what your parents left you, and already sold most of it.” He clutches the bag under the table. He’d wanted to prepare her for that, at least. She nods, solemn and eyebrows drawn in.

“...You did find something, though, right?”

He nods, and opens the bag, passing it to her. “We got the game pieces—but the bigger items—decorative pieces and most of your mother’s jewelry—were already gone.” He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

She takes in a breath and grasps eagerly at the bag, sorting through and pulling out pieces. A smile stretches across her face. “...They’re all here,” she says, like a sigh of relief. There’s a light mist in her eyes, but she smiles to him, holding the bag close. “Thank you. This was the most important to me, so it’s more than enough.”

He frowns. “Are you sure?” he asks. “If you want something similar to lost items, we could help get some replicas, or replace them somehow—”

She waves a hand. “Nonsense,” she says. “You’ve done enough for me. The rest was more my parents’ stuff, but they haven’t been back in years. It’s not like mother wore the stuff anyway—or did anything more than brag about bigger possessions.” She frowns, maybe just the slightest bit bitter when speaking of her mother, but soon laughs when taking out a few of the dime-sized tokens. “I mean it. This is enough; thank you.”

He nods once, but he still feels bad. However, seeing her grin that wide has him feeling somewhat relieved. “It’s no problem. Take your time here, as well; I can get a letter to your parents that you’re staying here now, if you’d like?” he offers. “I’ll be heading out soon enough anyway. And when you’d like to go back, I can give you a ride, too.”

“I can send them the message. I remember the address, at least.” She slumps, and puts the pieces down. “I forgot… you’re leaving once again.”

He smiles, a light apology there. “Sorry, I still have a bit left to do. But—” He holds his empty cup out to her, grinning. “I’m not leaving for today, at least. Catch me up on what you’ve been up to?”

Her lighthearted smile comes back once again, and he can hear Morgana groan as he settles into conversation once again, only quieting once lunch is offered.

~

When Akira comes back to his room, he can hear whispered speech coming from the bathroom, followed by soft giggling, meaning someone else was at least entertaining Akechi while he was away. He opens the door, and sure enough, Haru smiles up at him, wearing one of her fancier, casual dresses for the day. Probably one of the only times she got to relax like this, now that she has become a pirate with the lot of them.

“Welcome back, Joker.” She smiles, raising her teacup. “I’ve finished, but would you like some? The water is still hot.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve had quite a bit already today.” At that, Akechi looks to him, and Akira realises he’s got a teacup in his hands, as well. “You gave Akechi tea?” he asks, even though he really doesn’t need the answer to that.

“Ah, yes.” Haru looks towards Akechi with a small grin. “I thought I’d see what he thought of this part of human culture and get to know each other better over a cup. You didn’t mind it, right, Akechi?”

“Not at all,” Akechi says, passing the cup back. “But I think I’m done with that for today. It was an intriguing experience regardless. Thank you, Okumura.”

She smiles. “Just Haru is fine! Akira is back, so I’ll let him sit. I had a good time. I’ll see you soon?” she inquires, already standing with the stack of cups and saucers in her hands.

Akechi nods. “Of course.” And then, she’s gone—off to clean the cannons, or so she says.

As soon as the door is quietly clicked shut behind her, Akechi’s eyes bore into Akira, an underlined curiosity there. 

“Where were you all morning?” Akechi asks him, head tilted as he leans out of the tub, closer to him. “Futaba brought me breakfast and told me you’d already left…”

“Ah, sorry,” Akira says, pulling up a stool and sitting down. “I had to finish a request—a delivery. Remember the bag of Shogi pieces?”

“Oh,” Akechi says softly, voice lacking any clear emotion. “The village girl you mentioned, right?”

“That’d be her.” He nods, and shrugs his coat off, hanging it in the corner beside them now that he could relax for a while before going to his next errand.

Akechi hums distantly with an odd look on his face, one Akira can’t quite place. He leans back into his own space. His lips are quirked, and his eye contact is flighty at best as his nails click against the tub rim with little clacks. 

Akira stares. “...Are you okay? Did something happen while I was gone?” he asks, mostly because there seems to be a mood lingering in the room he isn’t sure what to do about. Was the tea excursion with Haru _that_ bad?

Akechi just frowns at him, before dunking himself under the surface of the bathwater, making water splash in every direction.

Great. Thank you. That totally answered my question. 

“Hey,” Akira starts, leaning in to have his crossed arms relax on the metal lip. “You can tell me, you know.” If it’s serious, it’s better dealt with now than later. He doesn’t want to intrude on Akechi’s past as much anymore, but he does need to know if anything vital is happening without his knowledge. 

Akechi pokes his eyes just past the surface, looking annoyed.

“Hi,” Akira greets. “You going to tell me what happened?”

Akechi spits, or rather, shoots water into his face with an arc, landing perfectly on his nose.

Akira stares in bewilderment, coughing a confused laugh out along with wiping water from his eyes, nose and mouth. “Why?” he asks, not leaning in again.

“...You didn’t tell me you were leaving yourself. I had to wait until Futaba showed up to tell me,” Akechi replies all too pleasantly, the kind that’s tinged with clear annoyance.

“Uh,” Akira starts his excuse, “You were asleep. You had a nice time with Haru though, right?” He can’t believe this. Is this how petty Akechi goes when he’s bothered? He can’t say he totally minds a splash of water to the face instead of nails raking down his cheek, but it’s… childish, to say the least. 

Akechi ignores him, looking away and rearranges himself in the tub, tail slapping once on the side of the tub.

Akira rolls his eyes. The silent treatment, again? All because he left this morning without saying—

_Oh._

“Akechi,” he says, leaning into the tub frame again. Akechi must be suspicious of the change in demeanor, because he tenses up with a sharp look his way. “Were you worried because I left without telling you? I’m sorry.”

Akechi’s crosses arms briefly loosen, and he looks almost tired, closing his eyes before sighing and splashing him again. “...No. I just would have liked to be made aware of your sudden absence, considering I’m relying on you in this situation. I can’t exactly leave the room and check myself whether you’re in danger or not, or the situation at hand.”

_Definitely worried._ Akira thinks, pleased. “It’s okay, Akechi. I’m alive and fine. See?” And while Akechi is distracted with being angry, Akira swipes one of those long-nailed hands into his own, fully risking the possibility of Akechi tearing into his face, and places it on his heart. “No need to worry, right?” He bats his eyelashes, for show. “Nothing wrong here. Completely safe and fine, post-errands.”

Akechi’s features shrivel up and then release evenly as he yanks his hand back after a moment. “...I see why you failed as a siren. You’re awful at attraction tactics.”

_Ouch._

“Going right for the throat, huh?” Akira mutters, illusion shattered. He smiles to Akechi. “I’m sorry for this morning. I’ll tell you next time what I’m doing, okay?”

“It wasn’t really about—” He cuts himself off, and Akechi looks like he wants to say some more, but seems to resign with a roll of the eyes, leaning in, close to Akira. “Nevermind. Ignore me. I’m sorry I sprayed you with water; that was petty.”

“It was. But you can be mad, it makes sense. I’ll just wake you up at the crack of dawn next time, sound good?”

Akechi flickers water at him with his swaying tail, sighing. “Please and thank you.”

Akira still feels like he’s missing something, but he moves on. “So. You had tea with Haru today, then. What’d you think?”

Akechi’s features pull in again, disgusted or unsure, he doesn’t know. A smile threatens to break out on Akira’s lips, and he hides it with a hand.

“Humans are odd. Why would you drink heated water with the barest tastes of greenery? It’s particularly bitter, too.”

Akira starts to laugh. “So you _didn’t_ like it after all, then.”

“No, it was… an interesting experience. Perhaps just not to my tastes. I didn’t know humans drank flavored waters… it’s a bit odd, to me.” he frowns. “I’ll stick with regular saltwater.”

Akira leans into the tub. “Tell you what—I’ll make you a mean coffee next time, now that I can restock. You’ll like that one, maybe.”

Akechi tilts his head. “I’ve been told that drink is also a specialty of yours… but still bitter.”

So, Haru was talking about him, huh. He waves a finger. “ _Wrong._ Elitists like to drink it the way it is, but I can sweeten it for you. Maybe I can change your mind on our odd beverages yet.”

Akechi seems to perk up at the sound of a competition. “You can try your best. I’d like to see what you have to offer.”

And that’s the end of that. Akechi’s features brighten, and he leans back outside the tub, as if his little tantrum didn’t occur, and smiles to Akira in that devilish way.

“Now, tell me about your visit? What was town like?”

Akira settles in, and tells him.

~

He checks with Takemi soon after he’s finished up with Akechi.

She lets him know right off the bat that her medicine for him won’t be done for another day, meaning they would be spending three days on land in total. 

_“In the morning that day, it’ll be ready.”_ Takemi promises. Then they can make their way out to sea again, and take on the next ship.

For now, though, he tries to relax where he can. And that means shopping with Shiho and Ann, third-wheeling on their date while getting some supplies they need, as well as hopefully eavesdropping on the crowd to find some hints of information where they can, too.

“So,” Ann starts, walking with Shiho and Akira to the town shop to pick up supplies. “I hear you’ve been getting closer with Akechi lately, huh?” Ann nudges him and laughs. Akira feels his shoulders fall. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, trying to remain indifferent. He hopes the two lovers go back to their cute squabble about what house they’re going to buy in Shibuya once Ann returns with the rest of her riches.

“Oh, come on! Futaba said the other day he was like, all over you. No concept of personal space, and you apparently didn’t do a thing about it. And apparently you looked super happy—so, what’s that about?” She grins. “C’mon, spill the details! I won’t tell, you _know_ that.”

“Nothing,” he swears. “It’s probably just the way he’s used to communicating. You saw how he was when he first met us.” He shuffles uncomfortably. The way Akechi’s acting is probably based on natural instincts. Hell, if _he_ himself hadn’t been around humans all these years, maybe he’d be like that too? The cultures are different.

As far as Akira knows, he’s the first one in a long time Akechi has been like this with, judging by how lackluster he implied his friendships had been back home. And while his behavior was most likely done with good intentions, the closeness, the reactions he had to Akira… they certainly were that of a merman, warped with seduction tactics, making life really, really difficult for Akira.

But he knows it’s just like that with them—he probably doesn’t mean a thing by it, so Akira will ignore that part.

Ann puffs her cheeks, before conceding. “Yeah, you might be right. But! That doesn’t give you any explanation for accepting it. If you get tired of keeping it all in, let me know, okay? I need to hear something juicy like this.”

Before Akira can oppose her ridiculous ideas, Shiho pipes up.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Shiho, meek but interested, asks. “But who’s Akechi?”

“ _Oh,_ ” Ann deflates a little bit, seemingly trying to find the words to excuse the fact they were talking about their merman acquaintance. He stares at her, as if to get across the message, _‘this is all yours to explain.’_ “Um! He’s uh, someone we hired to to sail with us—he’s a little mean at first, but he’s a good guy. He’s got a nice singing voice and he’s really strong, and he definitely has a thing for Akira.”

“I see,” Shiho giggles into her palm, that question answered. If she has any suspicions about Ann’s hesitance to reply normally, she doesn’t say so.

It’s not that they would need to hide Akechi from a friend—especially someone close to their group like Shiho. The people here are friendly of course, so it’s probably safe to be in the open, but... he isn’t really interested in shouting about Akechi and his amazing siren qualities in the town square, just to be safe from any possibilities. Or just from people crowding Akechi, if they knew. He isn’t a tourist attraction, or something to be gawked at. 

They can always let the two meet at another time, when they aren’t on a time crunch. When the information is safer to mention, after Shido has gone.

“I can still hear you, you know,” Akira groans, stress-walking past at least three stalls with fresh looking herbs and vegetation. To Shiho, he says, “Ann is misguided and very wrong about this, just so you know.” As if he could actually get away from this conversation through distance alone.

Shiho laughs. “Sorry Kurusu, you sound just a bit in denial, yourself.”

“Yes! That’s two against one. Thanks babe,” Ann says, swooping in for a kiss on her cheek, while Akira mourns having left his allies on the boat. 

Trying to gain Shiho’s favor was a mistake, and Ann fist pumps and clings to Shiho, who laughs too with red cheeks, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Akira. He smiles, despite it all.

“I don’t think you’re onto anything here. You’ll see, it’s all business.” He stops during their conversation, giving in at the sight of a sugared fruits stand and stopping to pick some out for purchase. Did they always have sweets for sale on this island?

Ann rolls her eyes. “Anyway, besides Akira’s denial—the weather has been really nice lately.” Ann says, staring off into the harbour. “I’m glad it’s nice out for the few days I’m back with you.”

Akira turns away from them, letting them have their moment. This part of the conversation isn’t for him, so he tries sampling the different fruit, trying to pick the sweetest.

“Me too,” Shiho says, sounding happy. “It was a rough ride on the way here, for our boats. We were near Aoyama Itchome for the last few days, catching more stock. The locals there warned us not to stay too long, though.”

Akira and Ann both seem to freeze at the same time.

“Uh, why’s that?” Ann presses, trying to sound more curious rather than serious.

Shiho gets quieter. “...There was a hulking ship circling the island for the last few days that had them on edge... The locals weren’t very kind this time around because of it, it was really odd.” She frowns. “They were really tense—told us _not_ so nicely to leave, but we just took our fishing gear to the rear of the island to hunt.”

“Did you see the boat yourself?” Ann asks, just a bit more urgent. Shiho tilts her head.

“Well, yeah. From afar. It looked kind of like a nobleman’s boat, or something. Why did you want to know?” And then, she gasps quietly, eyes darting around. “Oh—I’m sorry, does this have to do with... your job?” 

Ann nods, and Shiho covers her mouth.

“Was there anything else you remembered?” Akira asks, this time, still trying to casually pick out fruits.

She looks contemplative. “Sorry, no…” And then, “Oh, wait!” she adds, snapping her fingers. “It had gold writing on the side. I don’t know if it was real, but it certainly did catch the light, even from afar. I couldn’t read what it said though, sorry.”

Ann smiles. “That’s more than helpful enough!” she says. “Do you think that’s what we’re looking for, Akira?” She asks.

He nods. “It might just be.”

Well, that checks one thing off his to-do list. He’d wanted to peruse the village later with Yusuke and Ryuji, talking up local fishermen for info. With all the distractions, he hadn’t thought to ask Ann’s girlfriend.

Ann frowns. “Oh… this means I might have to leave tomorrow, now. Shoot.” And then, she looks teary eyed. “Ugh, I don’t want to leave you already…”

Shiho wipes her eyes with a smile, and pulls her into a hug. “Aw, you’ll be back soon after this is done, right? You’re doing good work out there.”

Ann smiles before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. You’re right! Ugh. I’ll be patient, then.” She leans into the hug, putting her nose into Shiho’s neck, making her laugh. “We are gonna have the longest date ever when I get back, you hear? I’m not leaving your house for a week.”

“Aww, Ann…”

“And maybe!” Ann says, sniffling. “Maybe Akira will actually tell me what he’s feeling before we get back, and we can actually celebrate!”

It’s a joking jab, one to distract herself, but Akira goes along with it.

“There’s nothing to tell you.” He rolls his eyes and picks up the peaches.

There probably is things he could tell her. He’s starting to need to confide in someone about this. The list of Akechi’s casual touches grows longer by the moment, and he doesn’t know what to feel about it any longer. The way he’s looked at, the way Akechi likes to linger in his hold; he’s wondering if it’s all just instinct after all.

He doesn’t know whether it’s safe to think about, or not. He’d like to consider his options—he likes Akechi. But after this, Akechi is leaving, and he doesn’t know if it’s in his better interests to linger on feelings past those of friendship—or even dare further wonder about what all these things together could mean. 

He closes his eyes, and tries not to think too hard about it. Or at _all._

“Uh-huh.” Ann says, knowingly. “And you totally aren’t thinking of buying those for Akechi, either.”

Akira puts the peaches down. He sends her a withering look as she laughs, and he feels compelled to buy other fruit instead.

He buys the treats for Akechi anyway.

~

He greets Akechi at the water's’ edge with a paper bag full of candies rather than useful supplies, and leaves it at the sandy shore, save for the handful he takes with him as he ditches his shoes at the shoreline.

Akechi waves, and as Akira comes deeper into the water, circles him once again, closer and closer with every loop. He stops at Akira’s face, and practically pulls Akira down into the ocean with him.

“You smell odd,” is the first thing Akechi says, grimacing. “What did you bathe in when you went to town?”

“Other sweaty people, probably.” Akira shrugs.

“Humans are gross,” Akechi says, shaking his head.

“But they make pretty neat food,” Akira says, opening his palm filled with the stall food, holding some out for Akechi. “Want some?”

Akechi sniffs, then snatches it up in a blink, human manners be damned when it comes to food. “It doesn’t smell…” Akechi says, watching sugar crumble off into the water.

“Just try it,” he prods.

Akechi eyes him, but does as told, putting a piece on his tongue, sharp canines visible for only a moment before he chews quietly. His eyes widen.

“Oh. That’s sweeter than those peaches. What is this?” Akechi asks, already going in for another piece.

“Candied ginger. I have a bag of it on shore. Did you want it?” Akira smiles knowingly.

“Please.” Akechi nods. And then, he perks up, seeming to be reminded of something. “Ah, I have a gift for you too. Wait a moment, okay?” he says, snatching the last pieces of the ginger and piling it into his cheeks, like some kind of foraging creature.

Akira nods, a little confused, but Akechi is off after having taken the remaining ginger in his hands, and he’s left to wash off the dusted sugar remnants while waiting.

Akechi returns not long later, tail propelling him back to the shore. He breaches the water, smiling with his hands cupped. “Take this, okay?” He says, and nudges for Akira’s hands to take whatever he’s holding.

It’s a small pile of what he first thinks is large pebbles, based on the feeling of what drops into his palms. But once Akechi’s hands pull away, he’s left staring at light grayish, lustrous pearls. It’s just a small palms worth, but they’re bigger than a lot of the one’s he’d seen farmed and put on necklaces, and sparkling opaque.

“How did you—”

“It’s in exchange for the necklace you gave me,” Akechi says, picking up the tear-shaped pendant hanging off his neck for show. “I know it’s not a necklace, or finished jewelry in return, but I thought maybe we could match?” There’s a light hue on Akechi’s cheeks as they meet eyes, probably from Akira’s sudden silence to the gift. “If you made them into one, I mean. A necklace. Jewelry. I don’t know how long it takes you to make one like this, but I thought…” He trails off, sinking more and more into the ocean, seeming to doubt his own words.

“Thank you,” Akira says, not knowing what else to start with. He didn’t expect a gift in return for what he’d done. “I like them. There might not be enough for a necklace, but I can probably make a silver bracelet with these.” They aren’t a stark white, either. Much like how Akechi’s necklace is a daring, fiery red to accentuate his eyes, these pearls are slightly off white, a light grey. Almost as if… Huh.

Akechi nods. “So you do like them, then?”

“I do. I can’t imagine how long it took you to collect these, though…” Akira trails off, rolling the jewels in his hand.

Akechi smiles. “Not a terribly long time, if you know where to look. I’m glad you like them.”

He’s still rendered stupid by the gift. It’s not like the other thieves haven’t given them their fair share of presents throughout the last year, not at all. It’s just… with them, it was always things long after they had gotten much closer, thoughtful things like chocolates or the results of their hard work, like Haru’s crops or Yusuke’s artwork as thanks.

For Akechi, to give something to match his own gift so they could wear them together… it feels ...romantic, in a way. Not that he minds, he just wasn’t expecting it. Akechi probably doesn’t know human customs and matching jewelry anyway, but he snorts thinking about what the others would say.

He also wonders if Akechi is as oblivious to human customs as he’s trying to convince himself he is.

“Is something the matter?” Akechi asks.

“No… Just a little dazed,” he replies, pocketing the jewels. “I did have news for you, though.”

“Oh?”

“We got a hit on where Shido’s boat might be located, now. It’s right from the source—told us that there was an oddly large ship patrolling around Aoyama Itchome for a while now. We’re going to check it out.”

Just like that, Akechi’s entire posture reconstructs itself, his warm, open expression pulling into hard lines, solemn and aggressive. Those warm eyes from moments ago just look like fire, now, mouth pulled into taught lines with sharpened teeth just barely poking out in a pulled expression.

“What are we waiting for?” Akechi says. “Let’s get a move on, then.”

Akira holds a hand out to stop him from flopping back to shore, which is what he looked like he was about to pull out of sheer impatience.

“Calm down. We—”

“I won’t calm down. This is important to you too, yes?”

“Yes, it is, Akechi. But we have to gather the last of our supplies, or else it will all be for naught. It’s better to go in prepared,” he says, as stiff as he can. “We have an order to this, I told you.”

It’s the first he’s seeing of Akechi’s bit of rebellion—he knows Akechi had a lot of feelings, when it comes to this. He doesn’t necessarily understand them, because Akechi doesn’t let him, or else Akira will be ignored. The rules have already been laid out, though, and he wants to stress the importance of their actions as well as he can—especially for someone like Akechi, who seems to have his own ideas, and wants to revert to them despite working as a group, now.

It could pose dangerous in the future, if not dealt with.

Akechi’s tail slaps against the top of the water, making a loud clap as he hisses, turning into the waves. “Fine,” he says, mood completed different from moments ago. “...When will we be ready?”

“At dawn.” Akira appeases. “We need to get our medicine before we depart, and more food for the trip. Haru and Yusuke are gathering more as we speak.”

“You mean _your_ medicine.” Akechi grumbles.

“What?”

“That’s what that witch makes, right?” Akechi says. “Your tail... _growth stunters,_ or whatever.”

Akira snorts. “Not exactly what _we_ call them, but yeah. They take time to make. Hate to tell you, but if I turn to a fish in the midst of battle, we’re pretty much dead anyway.”

Akechi mulls that over, and responds with a grunt.

“Hey,” Akira says, slipping back down to Akechi’s height in the water. They’re practically at shore anyway, so now, they’re just sitting on the slow rolling sand and waves. “We’re going to get him, okay? You don’t need to get frustrated. Or hasty—if we go too fast, the plan falls apart.”

Akechi looks at him, biting his lip. “I know. I’m not frustrated at you—sorry. I just feel useless right now. I refuse to let that man get away with—” He closes his eyes, hand crushing the soft white seafloor. “—anything. I refuse to let him get away with anything he’s done. He’s a coward, and I just don’t want him to… slip away.”

“Hey…” Akira says, grinning faintly at him. “You aren’t useless. Our team feels pretty complete with you around, you know. We’ll get him for sure. Together.”

At that, Akechi’s features seem to melt a bit, once more, at compliments and praise. Akira’s being sneaky, using it at a time like this, but It’s amusing watching those tail muscles unfurl and softly sway instead of sharp flinching to the side. And his face—the delight that seems to travel across his lips, as he looks Akira in the eye. It’s the difference between sitting beside an active volcano and a warm fireplace, Akechi’s emotions. It’s a very sudden change, but he’s glad if his words could help at all. If Akechi isn’t holding anything back, that is.

“You’re right... This will all be fine,” Akechi says, seemingly half to himself. “If you don’t mind— I’d like to go take some frustration out with hunting. I’ll bring some fish back for dinner?”

Akira nods, hoping that wasn’t code for _‘I’m making my head start getaway now with a flimsy excuse.’_ But it’s not like he can keep Akechi forcefully in his sights, even if he’s nervous. Trust, and all that. Akechi doesn’t look like he wants to talk longer, either. He looks restless, annoyed.

“Yep. I’ll see you later, then?” he asks, hopeful that Akechi isn’t mad any longer.

Akechi grins, and leans into him, a hand trailing along his breast pocket, and forehead connecting with his shoulder. “Of course. Sorry I yelled, again.” 

Again, with the touchy apologies. Akira tries to breathe normally, and ignore the loud beating in his chest once again.

“It’s fine. Go get your, um—fish.”

Akechi nods once more, and he’s off. Leaving Akira alone and confused, as usual.

Maybe one day they can just talk about their problems, and that be it.

~

Tae visits in the late night—more like early dawn, a messenger bag undoubtedly filled with potions and extra medicine at her side to make up for the wait.

“I packed some extra for you, in case you run into trouble,” she says, passing the bags contents over onto a table. Some extra bottles of balm, and bandages. “This is it, huh?” she asks, with a snort. “You’ll need all the help you can get—not that I think I can contribute more than this, guinea pig. You’ll do great.”

He smiles at her. “Thank you. We’ll try our hardest out there, and after, you can do all the tests you need to on me before going to the mainland.”

She snorts, but it cuts short with a taught straight line in place of her smile. “Listen,” she says, rather seriously. “I packed you extra for another reason. Akechi’s results didn’t change the formula all too much—but I could at least make it catered more generally, so someone other than you could use it if necessary.”

Akira’s still smiling, until it really sinks in. then it drops gradually. “You… made it for Akechi to use too?”

“Your final battles might be more than you expected,” Tae warns. “I’m taking precaution.”

Akira laughs. “So what, you’re a sea witch now too?” he jokes, but Tae’s face doesn’t falter. That almost makes it worse. “I won’t make him do anything of the sort. He’ll be able to help just fine the way he is.” Sure, he can really only sing to protect himself or the other crew if necessary, and he’d told Haru to buy a few sets of earplugs to block the siren voice out, just in case, but… He doesn’t think making Akechi suddenly learn to do human things should be their last resort.

Akechi doesn’t like humans, after all. Maybe his team, but...

He knows he’s being too defensive about this, and Tae clearly understands too from the way she sighs in response while shaking her head. “It’s just a last resort. You can’t exactly swim back here last minute to ask for extra supplies, so if it comes up that you do need it,” she waves the bottle once more before placing it back down, “then you have it. If not, you can throw it out after, simple as that.”

He sighs. “I know. Thank you… for looking out for us. I’m just on edge and I don’t—” _—want to force Akechi into anything._

Tae smiles. “It’s okay. You care for your friends above anything else, and that’s why you’re going to win this. Your motives haven’t changed in time at all.” She ruffles his hair, once, making him feel rather childish, before she leaves, waving. “Good luck out there. Until the end, if this is the last time I see you before the good news.”

~

The ride to Aoyama Itchome is a silent one, tense with nerves. It’s about a day away at full speed with Mona’s magic making the boat soar even lighter, like a true ghost ship in the water, but they needed the time to prepare. He has a feeling Shido’s second vessel won’t be parked right up to the island, probably simmered out just around the outline of the island—blending in with the fog, looming in the distance until they’re ready to strike the town, quick with accuracy.

There’s the chance that when they arrived, they’ll arrive during their thievery strike, too. Or worse, right after when the destruction has already been done. He hopes neither of those are the case. It’s hard to tell what would be going on upon arrival, but the unsureness of it all leaves them all at the edge of their seat as they stiffly prepare, garnering their weapons, much too jittery with the sleep they had the night before in preparation.

They all gather at one point to the deck to speak of the plan, once they’re getting close.

“Haru. You’re in charge of the cannons, as usual. And the pistols, when we get on the ship,” Akira appoints, earning a nod from Haru in return. “Makoto, Ann—you’re up front with me. Ryuji, you’re on guard behind me.” Nods of acceptance from everyone, even as Akira arranges Futaba and Yusuke to work together from the sides in, looking for a route. For once, they don’t complain—it’s all seriousness from here on out.

“Mona,” Akira says, just as Morgana jumps to his shoulder. “Start with me, but keep an eye on everyone. Heal them if they need it,” he says, and Mona leans up to head bump him in agreement. 

Then, Akira’s eyes are on Akechi, who still seems a little too awed to completely focus. It’s probably one of the first times he’s seen them work as a single unit without fuss or jokes. Even when they snatched him from Shido’s other ship, they were much different—most of the hard work already done, and trying to cater to a merman to appease him out of not charming them to their deaths, while they worried about transport.

“When we get there,” Akira starts, tugging his red gloves on with care, “I need you to stay on deck, alright? With you here, the ship is safe. Use your voice to keep them away from the boat or yourself, but do not harm them. Is that clear?” he asks, and looks to Goro, whose eyes haven’t parted from his gloves this whole time.

His eyes finally pull up to Akira’s. “...Understood.”

“Good.” Akira nods. The ship is just among the horizon now—just as big, bulky and ugly as the first one, an abysmally impressive huge shape among the sea, trying to guarantee cowering from others and fear from those who rode near.

Everyone seems to grab their weapons, pulling them up from the floor or sharpening them as the sea breeze wisps by. 

Now it’s just the wait to get through—right before they strike.

~

The gaudy ‘Wings of Human Sacrifice’ title in gold—probably real—written along the side of the ship does nothing to quell the nerves that come along with every one of these raids. It’s hulking—much bigger than the last one, which was already huge. A larger ship meant more ground to search and takeover, more crew members to take down and tie up.

Akira has confidence in his crew, but it’s a rush and a fear that runs alongside each other in his veins every time they do this, every time they seek out a fight like this. 

Akechi seems unnerved, too, tail starkly stiff and hovering like tensed muscle as they draw near, having used the cannons as defense until now to get in close.

“Calm down,” he whispers, mostly for the groups’ sake as a whole—they all got just as rattled before the storm. But it works—Akechi at least lowers his tail, like a viper backing down from prey, and sends Akira a look that’s too much to unwrap in the moment. 

For the most part, it just looks grateful; but there is always more than one layer wrapped up in every meaningful thing when it comes from Akechi, Akira is learning.

“Mona,” Akira whispers to his left, and blue light warps the side of his vision as Morgana gets the memo, ghostly light wrapping around him as he flies forward, off of the boat and towards their target. “Codenames from here on out. Get ready, everyone,” he says, and they all unite with unsheathing their weapons.

“Let’s get these bastards,” Skull says, and they all go in.

~

The first and top layer of the deck is the hardest, as always. The one where they catch a grasp of what they’re dealing with, learning the mental blueprints of the ship in the short time they have between wrestling crew and running around quiet as mice, trying to infiltrate on their own terms but _fast,_ before the news of their arrival spread like a plague to the inner corners of the ship.

The quicker it’s done, the better. It ceases all plans and attempts at pre-planned escape for the ones in charge hiding deeper inside, like in Okumura’s case. You only need about ten minutes to launch another boat, after all. Which means they had to be even quicker than that. They had only gotten to Okumura so quickly because of Haru’s help.

He’s pretty certain they won’t find Shido on this ship, considering his affiliation with these vessels is by name-only from what they knew; these people are only here to do his work for him. He would never be caught dead inside the walls of the structure, since he only funds the damned things and takes his loot with hushed exchanges in the shadows of the parliament.

He doesn’t exactly have time to worry about that.

The Phantom Thieves spread from the outer sides in, just like always, in their plans. Panther and Queen help him greatly with tackling the brutish enemies as they come forward, while Fox and Navi cover them from the outer sides, tying enemies up once they’ve been taken down and the coast is clear. They won’t be out for long, after all.

There’s too much ground to cover to stay above on deck; they pass through to the underside passages as a group, fanning out once again and repeating the process.

There’s not much time for chit-chat when they’re on a time crunch, but they still do their signature baton passes to get the job done, working perfectly as a team to take their enemies down. 

“Queen,” he says, when they get to the dusted bottom of the ship, opening a creaky door to reveal what they’d been looking for. He’s almost amazed. “...Look.”

“Joker? What is it...?” She slows her words as she sees where he’s looking, what they’ve found. “Whoa,” she mutters, eyes just a bit sparkled off the reflections.

The hoard in this room is by the piles. It’s double what they saw the last ship, minus Akechi—but the gold and jewels overflow past the brims of boxes onto the floor, ancient doubloons and treated crystals alike, strings of sapphire and iron jewelry roll outward like a flood—and it was almost too easy to get it.

Half of it was stolen, to be sure. He sees items that looked old and shabby in design, but knows full well they meant something to their owners. If left here, they would just be sold and melted down at a pawn shop. 

They high five, which brings in the attention of Panther and Fox at the sound, who finish their search to come over, marvelling and cheering with their newest haul as they pack it into bags. Mona decides to roll through it all, before helping out the crew to get the majority of it secured.

“Let’s head back!” Joker announces, leading the way to the top floor.

It really was too easy. He’s just in time to see a looming shadow from above the steps, just in time to react.

“Get back!” he yells to his crew, as a fist is throw his way, one clenching a sharp glinting knife. Joker retrieves his own, despite the loot heavy on his back; he’s not about to lose here.

With a few agile side-steps back down, much harder in a slimmed stairwell, he rotates around the large mans’ swipes, ducking under and away from the knife, before tripping him into falling down the few bottom steps. Panther comes out of nowhere, twining the chord of her whip around his hands and knocking him to the side, so he stumbles and crashes into something—probably that nice table with the splayed out map.

“Move out!” he tells his team, more out of rush than anything. It isn’t wise to trap themselves down here if there are more grunts waking up above. That man might have just been a rare case, but he doesn’t really want to try his luck until he can check their surroundings.

Akira shoos them out and follows after, closing the lock on the den on his way out, kicking it to dent the structure so it couldn’t so easily be opened. He needed to buy them _some_ time, at least.

They stay on guard, but the rest of the crew is still out of it and tired, fallen over onto their sides.

He beckons them all out, and they cross the boat in a rush, tense with worry while clutching their bags full of stones and riches. They drop it all at the gate before rushing in to get to their positions across deck—set sail and leave before that man breaks out, at the very least. 

He himself heads for Akechi. The man they trapped didn’t seem too thrilled what they had done, and they probably couldn’t blend into Aoyama Itchome at this rate—it’s too close to here, and they’d be seen. They’ll have to retreat to Shibuya for the time being and hide. He wants to find more information from the locals here, but… they’re too close to the battleground. He’s not going to risk it. _Contacting Mishima is it, then._

He turns the corner, just a few feet away from seeing Akechi on the deck, and then— 

He’s pushed into the wall, hard. His head clatters against it, brain rattling in place. Something is clicked around his hand in his stupor—a metal cuff, rather than rope, and clicked by the other end to part of the jutted out piping structure, and he slides downward, vision spinning.

His head is still ringing, but he goes to grab his knife, only to be stopped by a knife at his own throat, pressing more than lightly against his jugular. 

“I wouldn’t try that, or _he’s_ going to get it,” a gross, hot whisper is said into his ear, and he listens, dropping his weapon. _Akechi? Did he mean Akechi?_

There’s a few crew members in front of him—ones that weren’t on ship, before. Which meant they were staking out and hiding somewhere, before jumping onto their ship.

They’d been so careful, too. How?

He had assumed the ship was safe because of Akechi—he didn’t leave Navi and Mona to guard it this time around for that very reason. One look up tells him why that plan failed.

Akechi is gagged, and being held back by his arms by two large men—it seemed Shido had only hired brute force for this ship, probably more intimidation tactics. Akechi seems almost put together, calm even. Not straining against the hold at all— 

—until he sees Akira, that is.

His eyes go wild, tail flashing around. The men grip tighter on his arms, and Akechi makes a noise into his gag.

“Whoa! Seems like your friend missed you,” one of the men says, taunting, with a laugh. “Hasn’t reacted like that since we took him by surprise.”

Akira feels his shoulders rise, agitated. So Akechi had listened to his commands, at least. But now, he just needs to figure a quick way out of this before any other crew members come along, and before they detach from the other ship; this had to be quick.

There’s three men in view—two by Akechi, and one on him. The one who had cuffed him leaves his side to grab a bag off the floor, which clatters loudly as the items move within. He can only assume their possessions are in his arms, something that has him at least sighing out in small relief, hopefully gone unnoticed.

A bag of possessions is better than having another one of his team members in their grasp.

“Listen here—” one of the ones beside Akechi says, passing him off to the other man and coming close to Akira. The man with their stuff gets close to the other one, both of them seeming ready to depart. 

“We were going to just steal from you—seeing a boat like yours challenge us was just entertainment, at first.” He grins. “We wanted to knock you out after getting this far, and just steal what was left on your ship. But you know—” he says, and with every word, Akira gets more unnerved. “—It came to my attention very recently that Shido’s other ship had taken a fall… lost everything, you know? We heard even the ugly half-creature they’d caught for the boss was taken, too.”

Akira feels the dread pool at the base of his stomach, the taste of bile in his throat. “But you knew about all that, didn’t you? What a lucky find, to run into you guys. Along with the stolen merman.. I didn’t think we’d run into the _Phantom Thieves_ so soon.”

“...So what did you want from us, now that you found us?” Akira asks, easily finding his voice. “An autograph?”

The other laughs, playing along, but the sound makes him feel sick. “Not exactly.” And the knife digs into his throat just slightly, daring him to speak or make a joke like that again. 

“We just wanted to retrieve what was stolen from us with some interest, but…” The smile becomes full of teeth, malicious and wide. “I wonder what our boss would give us if we returned not only with the creature alive, but the Leader’s head?”

Before those words even have chance to sink in, there’s a scream from the man holding Akechi, and the man with Akira falters long enough to turn, the knife lowering from his throat, giving him a chance to breathe, and watch.

There’s blood everywhere. It pours on the deck like rivulets of water from a leaky faucet, seeping into the boards below them like puddle. It’s from the man, he’s sure—the one left to Akechi as a guard. He cries out in agony and clutching the wound, backs away on his haunches, clearly all bark and no bite.

Akechi had bitten him—quite deeply, if he had to guess, based on how much red was coming from that wound.

Akechi himself is covered in blood, like a wild beast that had sunk its teeth into dinner. The gag hangs loose on his neck, and he licks his lips, tongue wiping the smallest amount of blood away from that pale skin. His eyes are unfocused and snapping to anything that moves—which at the moment, was the man with the hand full of their treasures in cloth. He looks confused as to what to do—help his partner? Run away?—the questions are in his eyes that jump from Akechi to what he supposes is their leader, then to all the blood as he slowly backs away.

He’s much too slow to come to a decision—Akechi acts first, making one for him.

“Drop it,” he commands, the sound deep and echoing with a magic thrum on the walls of his own skull, and the man in question does so without question, body gone slack in place as he stares off, eyes as cloudy as a stormy day.

Akechi isn’t done. “Leave,” he commands with a hiss, and the man turns, running away.

The one who was trying to threaten Akira rotates his knife as he swears, walking to meet Akechi. Akechi’s eyes narrow at him, once they dart his way.

He looks inhuman—like the day they met. The blood on his mouth does him no favors, hair tangled and knotted making him look more manic, if anything. His eyes are almost slits now, bright and wide, capturing attention. Did they look this reptilian and bright at the base of the seafloor, in the dark? He smiles in a crazed way, daring the man to get closer.

He doesn’t look like he is in the mood to simply command the man to stay away like the other one, either.

“Akechi!” Akira calls, yanking uselessly against the chain on his wrist. 

The pirate from turns to him, knife pointed his way. “You stay out of this!” he demands, maybe just a bit shakily before turning to approach Akechi once again, knife ready.

Akira wastes no time in trying to unfasten the hold on his wrists while the man isn’t looking.

“You’re just half of a man—my crew is full of cowards.” He scoffs, not entirely sounding like he believed himself, even. He raises the knife. “I’ll bring back _your_ head, then—”

Akechi doesn’t let the swing occur. He mutters something, something soft and airy, a hummed curse like the first time they first met, when he had charmed Ann and Ryuji. The man swings down with a force ready to behead—at his own arm instead, letting out another scream, but allowing the knife sink deep into the meat of his skin without removing it. Blood pools around the weapon, and he’s so close it pours right into the water with Akechi, who doesn’t flinch, or even blink as blood splatters, both on him, and rolling down the tub, across the cracks of the floorboards.

Some of the Phantom Thieves finally appear, looking winded and with their weapons already drawn. 

Futaba and Makoto look at the scene, turning pale when they look at Akechi, weapons hovering. 

“What the hell…?” Makoto says, uncertain, and disturbed.

Akira smacks the chain against the wall to get their attention; they look at him sharply, before Futaba throws herself into action freeing him, hands shakily trying to pick the lock on the cuff.

Makoto goes to move forward, maybe to stop Akechi, the man, or both. Akira holds his other arm up, head still foggy. “Don’t get close to him,” he says, gasping. Akechi is still singing, just a low hum at this point. He’s sure they can feel it too, but it’s not meant for them, so they won’t be compelled to hurt themselves the way that man was, due to Akechi’s song. Still, he’d rather not take chances. “Just get me out. I’ll get him.”

Akechi, meanwhile, doesn’t look all that merciful towards the man, letting his scream ring out before whispering something else, and the man drops the knife, and it clatters to the ground.

It’s a loud clanging sound that carries, and Akira can only watch as the man falls to his knees and then right over. Akechi watches, eyes narrowed and mouth taut, a hum still reverberating out.

Futaba clicks the lock out of place, and despite being uneasy, he throws himself forward to Akechi.

“Akechi—” he says, approaching the tub, yet keeping some distance. Akechi probably wouldn’t take to well to having his space invaded, at the moment. The man twitches on the floor, eyes rolling back and very much alive, but experiencing… something of Akechi’s doing. It looks like a seizure. “Stop! He’s had enough!”

The humming stops. Akechi’s ears tilt up to the sound of his voice, neck turning to look at Akira, clarity coming to his eyes, focusing on him properly. His mouth parts silently without song, and the man sags against the floorboards, motionless.

Akechi makes a face, something assessing of Akira, before he reaches out, hesitantly. He’s not sure if it’s a needs for grounding in this situation, or just another greeting, but he complies

Akira comes grabs his hand, grip tight. Akechi pulls him closer by that hand, his own hands pulling free and gliding around his back to tug him in, smearing Akira in blood from his mouth and from the water, as he sinks into Akira’s hold, which is shaky at best.

“I’m sorry,” Akechi says, breathless. “I tried to protect the boat—I did. They snuck up. I didn’t have time to use my voice before they gagged me.” Those hands curl tighter into Akira’s jacket, gripping him wordlessly and pulling himself up to meet him.

That part is fine. That’s not what he’s worried about, it’s— ”Why didn’t you just send the other one away? Like the first one?” he asks. Why the violence of it all? 

Akechi… Akechi was terrifying, in that moment. Even now, with the threat gone, the Phantom Thieves once again keep their distance, from Akira and Akechi, watching hesitantly from the sidelines.

“He hurt you,” Akechi says, softly, like it was obvious, as he runs a hand through Akira’s hair, just over the light cut forming on his skull. The fingers are wet and soft, like a cold brush of ice glided along the wound—which makes it all the more scarier, after what Akira had just seen Akechi do. The cruel and vicious treatment to someone that wasn’t on their side. “Should I have let him go, after that?” Akechi asks, seriously.

Akira stares at the man, and Makoto, who’s checking up on him. She has wrapped his arm up in haste, and is keeping pressure on the wound. She gives Akira a light but concerned nod, and he can only assume the man is breathing still. Her gaze lingers to Akechi, before snapping back to work on that arm.

Akira swallows, looking towards Akechi. He doesn’t know what to think about first.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” is all he can say, and finds himself able to clear his head enough to balance Akechi in his arms, to take him to his room.

Those hands cradle him kindly, eyes looking to his for signs of pain. It’s the opposite of what he just witnessed.

It’s probably for the best his head wasn’t hit too hard—from the way his crew parts away from them, he’s not sure any of the other Phantom Thieves would near Akechi after that little display.

~

“I don’t think I did anything wrong.” Akechi says, as Akira wipes a stained rag across his cheek, wiping away the last bits of the bloody residue.

Akira sighs, and tries to smile at Goro. It sort of falls flat. “...What was that, Akechi?”

The man had lived. He was responsive enough to leave be, groaning as he was near coming to, left tied up with the rest. But whatever Akechi did most definitely made the man’s eyes roll back into his skull, and left him shaking on the ground, with black liquid seeping from his eyes and mouth. He’d only been informed of the last part when Makoto came to briefly check with him, while he was patching Akechi’s wounds. Small cuts and the like—there was nothing he could do about the bruises on his upper arms from being held so roughly.

Goro looks like he wants to pout. Seeing him now—or rather, seeing him back there, was such a flip from this. It’s hard to believe they’re the same person at all. He knows Akechi is dangerous, but it’s easy to forget when he’d spent the last week watching him splash in the tides with Futaba and try different types of food with Ann and Makoto and pose silently for Yusuke’s sketches. He rubs more persistently at the spot of blood that stains Goro’s cheek, scrubbing the pink skin maybe too hard—Akechi flinches. He shoots Akechi a sorry look, and slows his movements down and dabs lighter.

“I did what had to be done. I couldn’t let anything happen to you, obviously,” Akechi says, eyes inquiring of Akira. “You and I both know he wouldn’t have been lenient if I hadn’t done a thing—don’t play me for a fool.”

Akira sighs. “I know that, just—” How do you explain to someone how terrifying that was? “We try not to let violence get the best of us here. You....” He gives up on the rag and tosses it in the wastebin. “You looked like you wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t intervened.”

Goro tilts his head. “I would have,” he disagrees.

“Are you sure?” Akira asks. “You looked like you were going the full nine yards, there.”

Goro gets a crease in his brow. “Then what would you have liked me to do—let him run free without retribution after threatening on taking your head back with him?” Akechi does that thing again—running hands along his cheeks, much too softly for a conversation like this. “He hurt you, too.”

“...We try not to get too violent, Akechi… It’s not about me—that’s not what we’re about. We’re here to help people—if someone—especially someone who opposed us had died, what message do you think that would send others who look up to us?” Akira asks, trying to remain on topic.

“Oh, please.” Akechi sneers, pulling himself away from Akira—as much as he can in a bathtub, which is crossing his arms and leaning the other way. “Don’t feed me stories, Akira. I’m quite certain you’ve done similar numbers to others.”

Akira feels annoyance scrunch his own features up. “You almost took his arm clean off, Akechi. And—” He waves a hand around. “Whatever _that_ was that you did.” He’d still like to know.

His eyes glimmer. “Would you like to know? I can teach you that, too.”

“Akechi.” He’s feeling the beginnings of a headache, at this point.

“And so what? You don’t think he’s done worse to others?” Akechi challenges.

“Akechi—I’m not talking about him. I’m talking to you—we’re trying to be better than that, okay? The whole group is on the line if we go too far—any one of us.”

Akechi stares at him for a long, long moment. “...I listened to you, the whole time, you know. I didn’t start anything with them once they captured me.” He bites his lip, looking conflicted. “I knew you’d come get me, so I didn’t want to push it with them, or try and hurt them. For your sake.” Akechi pushes. 

“Akechi—”

“But it was different when your head was on the line, okay?” It’s said high, a near screech. Akechi grips the tub rim tightly, probably with enough force to bend. Akechi’s eyes are fiery, staring at his now. “That’s the only thing I could think to do—the power of suggestion doesn’t work as well for some. I wasn’t going to risk it when you—” His features twist, and Akira dives forward, pulling Akechi’s hands lightly off the tub. He’s going to hurt himself, at this rate. 

“Hey,” Akira coos, trying to capture Akechi’s attention. He’ll be nicer. “It’s okay. You just scared everyone, alright? I’m sorry I pushed it. You were scared too, right?”

Akechi snorts, seemingly at the accusation of being scared. He slinks in closer, searching Akira’s eyes before laying his head on his chest. “...Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever that power was, though—” Akira starts. “Don’t use that again, alright?” He’s surprised that man even came out of it alive. They couldn’t stay back to make sure he woke up alright, but he was responsive, so…

“But that’s all I can do from here.” Akechi says, sounding frustrated. “The only thing I can offer you all is my voice.”

Akira weighs the pros and cons. He trusts Akechi. He does, it’s just—he’s afraid if something were to happen to him if he went too far, or the others—he wants them to trust Akechi. They aren’t seeing him like this—they don’t know that he was just worried. He was trying to help, but he’s never been around humans long enough to know the do’s and don’ts, he’s sure. They only saw the bloody mess he created and had to treat the wounds he inflicted.

“Maybe,” Akira says. “Maybe it’s best you just don’t use that for now, when it comes to our raids. You could stay here—safe, instead, so you wouldn’t need to do that.”

Despite how softly he says it, he can feel the room temperature drop a couple degrees, and knows it wasn’t the right thing to suggest. Akechi’s hands slip out of his lapels, and he pushes himself away.

“Leave me alone for awhile,” he requests, quietly. Maybe a true sign he’s angry, as his tail flickers sharly to the side, while he stares on, calm and poised.

“Akechi—” He didn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t get to say that much, though.

“Just,” Akechi says, sharp and high, “go away. If I’m not useful to you at all, you could have just told me in the beginning. I won’t be a burden.”

Akira holds his ground. “I never said that. Don’t put words into my mouth.”

“You may as well have!” Akechi scoffs. “I don’t need you to tell me in your soft-hearted version that I’m only in the way. I’m not—” He clams up then, jaw locked shut as his brows furrow. “I’m not talking about this. Just go, okay?”

Akira’s not going to hound him to talk when he has nowhere else to turn. Closing his eyes with a sigh, he turns around heavily, grabbing at the door in delayed movements.

“I’ll come back with your dinner later, okay?”

He doesn’t get a response.

~

They sit in a circle on deck, chilled by the evening air. Ann is clutching at her arms, silently staring at the ground. Makoto looks tense, and scratches at her own nails. There’s still blood under them, he’s sure. They’re all thinking much too hard, and not really talking about it. The wind is louder than anything else, and it’s nothing more than a soft chilly breeze that naturally comes with being on the sea.

“That was… scary,” Ann says, suddenly. She’s much more somber now, but she still looks up at Akira, eyes curious. “Has he calmed down, at least?” And then, “Have _you_ calmed down?”

Akira almost sighs out in relief. Leave it to Ann to be worried about them before addressing anything else. “Yes. I’m okay,” Akira says. “He is, too. He’s not so happy with me, though.”

She nods, and seems like she’s going to ask, but they’re interrupted by Makoto. “Maybe taking him in wasn’t such a good idea.”

And there it is.

He closes his eyes. “He said he was defending me.”

“He almost killed that guy!” Ryuji says, much too loudly. They all send a look his way. Akechi is far from deaf, even if they’re on another floor. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing his neck. “It’s just…”

“No, I think we’re all thinking it… He went overboard,” Futaba says, grim. “We’re lucky Makoto closed that wound hastily. His arm was practically chopped off.” 

“You could phrase it more delicately,” Yusuke chides.

“ _Well!_ ” Futaba throws her hands up. “Do you want me to nicely imply his arm was almost severed? Not to mention that weird thing that happened, his eyes, and that black liquid coming from—”

“We saw, Futaba,” Haru says, softly. They grow silent again.

Makoto turns to Akira. “What do we do about him?” she asks. “He almost broke one of our biggest rules on the first infiltration he’s been with us. What would happen if he goes farther, next time?”

“I talked to him,” Akira promises. “He’s mad, but I don’t think he’ll do it again. He just wanted to be drastic—it’s never a guarantee a siren’s call will perfectly control them. He didn’t want to risk either of us.” 

He doesn’t really want to get into it now to explain, but there’s times and places where it won’t work perfectly. For instance, if the man has a strong goal, it’s not as easy to hypnotize them into doing something completely against their intention. It’s easier to melt softer minds or hearts—that’s why sirens usually approach with attraction and allure.. In that mans’ case, he probably couldn’t be convinced to simply run away if that was something against his principles. However, on that same note, it wouldn’t be hard to convince him to take a swing at himself instead of someone else, if he was already convinced to be violent.

That’s all just speculation on his part, though. And he doesn’t even have one for whatever Akechi did to make him have a near seizure.

“We can’t take risks on _‘I don’t think he’ll do it’_. That could have endangered _everything,_ ” she stresses.

“You don’t think I know that?” Akira asks, getting louder. He needs to make a compelling point here. “I put my all into these plans. You know that.”

“Then don’t risk it all over someone who can’t blend into the team,” she says, harshly.

“Mako… ” Haru says, softly, using her pet name to capture her attention. Makoto looks at her and sighs, leaning back to pinch the bridge of her nose. Haru grasps her free hand tightly between them. 

“I’m sorry. I misspoke.” 

“No,” Akira says, mouth taught. “I know. I understand why you’re upset. But I promised I’d help him. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he did it for my sake. He didn’t disobey my orders once when his own capture happened.” He swallows. “He waited for us to get back.”

They’re quiet at that. 

“And… do you think that’ll be enough?” Futaba asks. “For next time, I mean.” 

He frowns. “I told him that maybe he shouldn’t take part in our next raid if he’d only do that again. Will that suffice?”

Ann blinks. “You said that?”

He sighs. “Yeah. It’s why he’s mad at me.” 

She frowns, maybe disapprovingly. It’s an argument for another time. “Well…” It starts out quiet, but she takes a huge huff of air to enunciate her next statement. “I don’t want him gone!” she says, kicking her feet from her spot on the ledge. “It was _freaky,_ yeah, but he’s not used to being around humans, right? He was just trying to defend himself.”

“And Akira,” Morgana adds, jumping in. “He wanted to save Akira, remember.”

Sometimes, he’s really thankful his crew is forgiving and kind. He turns to Futaba. “Thoughts?”

She frowns. “He’s probably never fought any other way before, I guess. We’ve done similar fighting, just… not as bloody. But as long as he doesnt do whatever he just did again, it should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

Akira nods. “You guys?” he addresses Yusuke and Ryuji, who haven’t said much.

They look to each other and Yusuke nods, at the very least. “I think it’d be good to teach him other techniques before out next ship raid, though.”

“Duly noted.” Akira smiles.

“As long as he doesn’t use it on us, it should be fine…?” Ryuji says, hesitant. “I mean, it wasn’t his music that freaked us out. It was just how violent it got. But it’s not like I haven’t done my fair share of beating up our foes, personally. As long as he doesn’t sing whatever he did today, we’re good.” He shrugs.

“I think,” Haru says, “that he was worried for you, Akira. I can understand going to those kinds of measures. As long as he knows we can’t fail, I see no reason to suddenly… boot him from our team. I made mistakes too, the first time.”

He looks to Makoto, almost hopefully. 

She sighs out. “If he doesn’t use that song again, fine. That was too close of a call, and we don’t need blood on our hands. Other than that—” she states, finally, her shoulders relaxing. “He’s been fun to be around. You can do a multitude of things when you panic.” She clutches haru’s hand tighter and sways their hands, as she speaks. “I for one can at least understand rash decisions. I spoke too soon—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Akira says, grateful. “I’ll talk to him about this, okay?” 

Ann moves forward and bumps his shoulders. “Make sure you apologize to him, okay? When you do.”

“Yes.” he replies. “Of course.”

“Cool.” She says, and then, grabs him by the arm. “Pretty sure a good place to start would be to feed him something good. He still saved us, scary method or not. People like food—he’ll talk after, I bet.”

Akira rolls his eyes, fond. “ _You_ respond well to food. I don’t know if he’ll be dying to listen to me once i bring him dinner.”

_Actually, well._ She might be right. Maybe he’ll sneak a few more pieces of candied fruit into his pocket, for extra temptation.

“Well, whatever! Come help me make dinner, yeah? We all worked hard, today.”

He snorts. “I’ll help.”

It would kill some time, at least. Maybe then, Akechi would talk to him properly, and he could apologize for suggesting something like that, nerves getting the better of him. 

He likes Akechi’s songs. He doesn’t want him to stay quiet, all because of him.

~

Ann helps him slice things correctly, but the meal is pretty straightforward. He doesn’t even need to cook it like he does with the others—it’s just a large slab of fish, diced up and spread out for Akechi to pick at. He almost left with just a whole fish, but Ann made him go all out into presentation, mad he’d even considered otherwise.

He presses the door to his quarters open with his shoulder, getting ready to be yelled at. “Akechi!” he calls, kicking the wood back into the frame. “I made you food. It’s—”

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the layout of his room. 

The floor is covered in pieces of stray clothing ripped from hangers and in a trail on the floor, shirt dangling off his lamp. One of his side tables are knocked flat over, the diary he left there open and flat on the floor, a few pages fallen out. A vase with a single rose he had on the desk is shattered, petals scattered.

Akira places his food tray down, and grabs the pistol from his back pocket. He doesn’t dare call Akechi’s name out again. 

What had happened? Had another member of Shido’s ship been hiding away, after all? 

He goes to the bathroom first—it’s closest, and he needs to check on Akechi. 

To his horror, he’s not there, but the floor is soaked, with both water and blood, and his pills from the higher shelf on the floor along with other balms and bottles, some of the dosage rolling around on the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters, picking it up quickly and turning to leave. Where was Akechi?

He hears something from the other side of the wall thump, and makes his way outside to the rest of his room.

There doesn’t appear to be anyone there, as he scans the nooks and corners with his gun. He warily approaches the closet, the last possible place to hide.

He takes a deep breath, and rips the closet door open.

More of his clothes are scattered about, along with wooden hangers and more of his unused gear coating the floor like a rug. The lamp is shattered on the floor, too, probably from falling off the top shelf along with the rest of his things. There’s only a little bit of faded light left coming in from the outside through the portholes, but it’s enough to see what the cause of all of the mess is.

In the center of it all lies Akechi, panting and pale. He’s covered with random pieces of Akira’s clothes, most likely pulled down around him in the battle he seemed to have with entering the closet. He’s clearly had a hell of a time getting this far, cuts and scrapes on his arms, hands, and—

Legs. 

Akira blinks, not really comprehending what he’s seeing. But no matter how many times he closed his eyes to reimagine the reality in front of him, it’s always opening to the same image. Akechi’s staring up at him worriedly, and Akechi, he— 

Akechi has legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that for a cliffhanger
> 
> (Also, the lovely Pom drew me some fanart of merman Akechi ;-;  
> right [here!](https://twitter.com/pinpoms/status/1046903096952180737) )

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this isn't my other fic lmfao
> 
> but like, Mermay. U feel me?
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day if you have the time!! I'd love to know your thoughts. And for real this time - this should be 3 chapters max, but my goal is 2. Hope you Enjoyed!


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